


The Young Queen

by NeedTheDark



Category: The Blacklist (US TV)
Genre: Destiny, Elizabeth is a princess, Epic Love, F/M, Reddington is Prime Minister, Royal Romance, Secret Relationship, Tom Keen is always a villain, lovers torn apart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:07:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 62,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25494343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeedTheDark/pseuds/NeedTheDark
Summary: The year is 1827 and Raymond Reddington, 2nd Viscount Melbourne, has just become Prime Minister of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland. Having lost his wife and little girl to typhus, he lives to serve the King and his children, Prince Frederick and little Princess Elizabeth whom he adores. When Elizabeth returns from school abroad a young woman, the affection they feel for one another grows into something else. Their romance seems unbreakable until a tragedy changes everything, and Reddington must put his feelings aside to help Elizabeth take on the greatest task of her life. A royal Lizzington romance.
Relationships: Elizabeth Keen & Raymond Reddington, Elizabeth Keen/Raymond Reddington
Comments: 387
Kudos: 464





	1. Reddington Bear

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my new fic! This is one for fans of my Tudors fic, The Red Rose and the White. This time we’re in 19th Century England with more kings, queens, princes and princesses, and, as always, a Lizzington romance. Very loosely inspired by the life of Queen Victoria but don’t look for too much historical accuracy. Note that while this story begins when Lizzie is a child, there is no underage in this fic. Enjoy!

Raymond Reddington, 2nd Viscount Melbourne, walked down the opulent corridors of Buckingham Palace on his way to his audience with King Alexander. A seasoned politician, he had been a friend and advisor to the King for many years, though this visit held a particular distinction. After many years serving as leader of the opposition, the Whigs, he had seen off the Tory leader the Duke of Wellington, and been elected Prime Minister of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland.

It was a bittersweet victory for him. His wife and little girl had both died of typhus some years ago, leaving him a lonely but dedicated politician, who resolved to bring meaning to his life by serving his king and country with the deepest commitment and respect. His friendship with the King meant a great deal to him, as did the affection of the King’s son Prince Frederick, and, especially, his charming little girl, Princess Elizabeth the Princess Royal, whom he delighted in spoiling.

As he approached the King’s private apartments in the palace he heard the sound of little footsteps running over the marble floor towards him. He paused and turned with a broad smile, delighted to be greeted by the little princess who ran towards him enthusiastically, her petticoats swishing about her.

When she reached him she paused studiously and performed an exaggerated curtsy.

“Good morning, Lord Melbourne. May I congratulate you on your election as Prime Minister” she said slowly in a very grown-up manner, as though she had studied the greeting.

Reddington smiled jovially, though he suppressed the laugh he felt bubbling in his chest for fear of offending the lovely little girl.

“Thank you, Your Royal Highness” he answered solemnly. “I’m much obliged. Though if we are to be quite grown-up and proper, it is I who should bow to you” he told her, executing a genteel bow to the little princess.

She grinned and nodded in delight that he’d played along with her performance, her dark curls bouncing around her deep blue eyes.

“Reddington bear!” she laughed, relinquishing her formal manner and returning to her favourite nickname for him. “I’ve been practicing my curtsy. Did you like it?”

“I liked it very well indeed” he said affectionately. “Very pretty, and superbly executed. And I think I might just have a reward for you” he said, patting the inside pockets of his jacket theatrically.

She dimpled happily at him, bouncing up and down on the spot in excitement. Reddington always ensured to carry a small box of fine cocoa truffles when he visited the palace, knowing how much the little princess adored them. He retrieved the small silver trinket box in which he kept them, and she took one with a giggle of delight.

“Are you going to see Papa?” she said then, eyeing the footman who waited patiently behind Reddington.

“I am indeed, Little Lizzie.”

“May I come? Pleeeease?”

Reddington smiled regretfully. “Not today, Lizzie. His Majesty and I have urgent matters of state to discuss. Another time” he told her gently.

He could see she was disappointed and was about to console her when the Princess’s aunt, the Duchess of Cumberland, appeared with a sour expression on her face.

“Elizabeth” she said sternly. “You must not detain Lord Melbourne. You will return to your lessons immediately.”

Reddington’s heart tugged seeing the crestfallen expression on the little girl’s face, and he bent down and smiled at her conspiratorially.

“Have no fear, Little Lizzie. I have no doubt that your father will extend a less formal invitation before long. I shall be back with more truffles, and we shall talk for as long as your heart desires, lessons be hanged” he whispered mischievously.

Cheered, she nodded enthusiastically, and ran off down the corridor, pursued by her officious aunt calling crossly after her.

“Elizabeth, the stairs!”

Reddington sighed as he watched the little Princess bob impatiently at the top of the stairs at the end of the corridor, waiting for her aunt to escort her. Palace rules dictated that royal children of her high rank must be escorted up and down stairs at all times to protect them from falling. Everything the princess ate was tasted first by a footman to ensure that it was not spoiled or too hot, and she was supervised by a governess or the Duchess at all times.

She was possessed of a delightful imagination which would serve her well, he thought, given her strict upbringing. Several years her senior, her brother was too old to take much interest in playing with her, and as heir to the throne his education and wellbeing were at the forefront of the palace priorities.

The little Princess’s mother, Queen Catherine, had died when she was a baby, and she was only allowed the limited company of other children of sufficiently noble birth. It hurt Reddington’s heart to think that she must be quite lonely. He swallowed painfully as he wondered if, had she lived, his own little daughter would have been considered a suitable playmate for the Princess. As a Viscount he was himself a fairly minor member of the aristocracy, the privileges he enjoyed at the palace stemming from his friendship with the King rather than as a consequence of his rank.

His reverie was broken by the footman’s polite address, reminding him that the King was expecting him. He stepped forward, entering the King’s private audience room for the first time as Prime Minister.

* * *

As Reddington had anticipated, the King was quick to issue an informal invitation for the new Prime Minister to visit with the royal family, and he was only too glad to accept. The day soon came around, and he stood with King Alexander on the spectacular west garden terrace in the late afternoon, a crystal tumbler of fine single malt in his hand, the King not one to delay celebration when it was merited. From his position on the terrace he had an extraordinary view of the gardens and the two royal children who frolicked there, the little Princess Elizabeth delighted at the rare opportunity to see her father and play with her brother.

She shrieked loudly as Prince Frederick pulled her ringleted hair, and, outraged, she took off after him, apparently unencumbered by her numerous silk petticoats. The men watched this exchange in amusement, and laughed affectionately at the sight.

“She is a darling little creature” the King said wistfully. “I do wish I had more time to spend with her, and Frederick also.”

“She’s a delightful child, Your Majesty” Reddington agreed, fondly observing the little girl as she chased her brother without any thought for decorum or her costly skirts. “Her spirit is testament that you do well by her.”

“Ever the diplomat, Raymond” the King answered his friend shrewdly. “You know as well as I that the crown demands so much of my time that I can barely see them. I can only hope that I leave them prepared for the world of the royal court – that I leave a country they can be proud of.”

Reddington frowned. “Sir, it will be many years before you will need to concern yourself with that, and when the time comes I have no doubt that you will leave the monarchy the rich and flourishing institution it is today.”

The King pursed his lips. “We must plan ahead, Melbourne. Now that you are Prime Minister, we must talk more of my great matter. I must ensure that my descendants will wear the crown. Of course I have a son, and Frederick will be king. But as it stands, if Frederick has only daughters to inherit when the time comes, then the crown could well pass out of my family and to my wretched brother the Duke of Cumberland’s heirs.

“His son Prince George could take the crown, or George’s sons if he no longer lives. I will not have it, Raymond. If there be only a daughter, then she should inherit – she has the thickest royal blood. She should have the unquestionable right, enshrined in law.”

Reddington nodded. “I quite agree sir, and I have already been petitioning for an amendment to the Act of Succession on both sides of the house. I am pleased to report there is a good appetite for the change – many feel that the monarchy will be more secure with a guarantee that the crown will remain in the same family with no question as to whether some uncle or cousin would have a claim if there is only a woman to inherit. No one wants to see a fight for the throne as in days of old.”

“Indeed” said the King. “The days when brother fought brother on the battlefield are long gone. But what says the Duke of Wellington? He’s an old Tory and not likely to bear the change easily.”

Reddington’s lip twitched. “Your Majesty is correct that Wellington is where the opposition will come, set as he is in the old ways. But there are many in the Tory party who are inclined to rebel and vote with us, with the promise of security that the amendment brings. In truth, sir, the most significant opposition comes from your brother, the Duke of Cumberland, who lobbies hard against you.”

“That comes as no surprise” said the King shaking his head. “Ernest has always been jealous. I suppose he holds out some hope that Prince Frederick will fail to produce a son and the crown will pass to his family. Do you know, he’s already petitioned me to betroth my Lizzie to his son Prince George, desperate as he is to get closer to the crown.”

Reddington frowned sharply. “Princess Elizabeth is but a child. Besides, when the time comes, as Princess Royal she will have her pick of suiters. Best to wait and see what the future brings. Haggling over a child for political gain” he muttered disapprovingly.

King Alexander laughed then. “Your scruples do you credit, Raymond, but I regret to say her position as Princess Royal comes with unavoidable responsibilities. I am minded to send her to be educated in Austria. Let her see some of the world. Let the world see her.”

Reddington’s heart seized with sadness at the idea of the little girl of whom he was so fond being sent away.

“Is that wise, sir?” he said gently. “Surely it would be better for her stay near her family, to learn British history and the ways of the British court.”

The King shook his head. “I am resolved. I cannot give her the time she deserves and so must send her to those who can. If my poor dear Queen Catherine were still living it might be different. But with no mother here she needs to be around elegant women who can educate her.

“Would you look at her petticoats covered in grass stains!” the King exclaimed then as the little Princess fell to the ground in an attempt to catch her brother. “No Raymond, she needs a woman’s influence before she becomes unmarriageable.”

Reddington pursed his lips, looking at the little girl who played in the garden without a care in the world. Strict though her upbringing was, she still had little idea of the weight of responsibility that came with being the firstborn daughter of a king. When she was grown there would be fierce competition for her hand in marriage, her cousin Prince George being only one of many European princes who would plot and vie for her. As he watched her play, he vowed silently that he would do what he could to protect her.

The men paused as the little Princess turned suddenly and approached them at speed, slowing giddily only as she reached the great stone steps of the terrace. She climbed the stairs slowly and theatrically, and Reddington noted her sharp blue eyes were settled on him craftily.

When she reached them, she stood with her hands behind her back, her skirts swishing as she moved impatiently from side to side. The King and the Prime Minister looked down at her with indulgent smiles, patiently waiting for her to state her business.

She bit her lip shyly and Reddington leaned down with a smile. “We are all ears, Your Royal Highness. How may we serve you?”

She seemed to consider for a moment longer before she smiled mischievously, and her little hand shot out and tapped him hard on arm.

“Tag!” she yelled, and was off like a shot, running down the stone stairs giggling breathlessly.

The men laughed heartily, and Reddington turned to the King with a regretful smile. “Do excuse me Your Majesty - I believe I have been marked, and as a man of honour I must give chase.”

The King laughed harder and waved his hand. “By all means, be off sir, be off – jolly good!”

The little Princess squealed in delight as Reddington took off down the steps to chase her and the Prince in and out of the privet hedges and around the rose garden. Eventually he managed to catch her, but her agility and small size made her a more formidable opponent than he liked to admit.

The King clapped indulgently, and Reddington climbed the stone steps back to him, his face red from the exertion.

“She is besotted with you” the King observed with a sad smile.

Reddington laughed. “That may be, but I fear I have not the energy to do her game justice, old and fat as I am.”

“Nonsense!” the King retorted. He paused a moment and looked at his friend.

“Raymond, it is the privilege of a king to say that which others may not, so I will be blunt. Why not marry again, and have more children of your own? You are a fine fellow and still in your prime. My advice is take a wife to comfort you and shoulder some of the burden. Have children to bring you joy.”

Reddington’s eyes creased a little in pain as he looked out over the garden and the royal children who played there. He adored them, but could he ever have another wife and child of his own after all he had lost? It seemed unthinkable. He had not the words to explain the grief he still carried, and so simply shook his head with a sigh.

King Alexander patted him stiffly on the shoulder and offered him a cigar from a gilded box, which he accepted gratefully.

“It seems we are both married to our country” the King surmised drily as they lit their cigars. “Get the Act of Succession through parliament, Raymond, for all our sakes. It would be a great service for my descendants, and for the nation. If ever there be only a daughter… let her be queen.”


	2. The Changeling

Despite Reddington’s gentle protestations, Princess Elizabeth was sent to Austria to be educated as befits a Princess Royal, and Reddington missed her dearly in the years that followed. He focussed on his role as Prime Minister, and counted many successes, notably passing the amendment to the Act of Succession that would allow a daughter to rule without contest if there be no sons. His achievements led to his election as Prime Minister for a second term, and so it was that he continued to serve his King and country.

On the advent of the return of Princess Elizabeth some months after her seventeenth birthday, the King had planned an intimate gathering of family and friends to welcome her, ahead of the larger celebrations that would take place. Reddington was flattered to have received an invitation to this private party, and looked forward to being there to welcome home the little girl he cared for so fondly.

As he entered the Green Drawing Room where the party was to take place, Reddington found himself more than a little curious to see Princess Elizabeth after her years away. Would she be much taller, and would she still have an interest in the games they used to play, or would she now aspire to the more formal graces of adulthood, young though she still was. He was announced by the footman and bowed immediately to the King and Prince Frederick – now a young man - as was the custom.

When he raised his head, his breath hitched in his throat as he caught sight of an uncommonly beautiful young woman with whom he was not acquainted, seated delicately beside the piano forte. Her lustrous dark hair was gathered in ringlets adorned with tiny rosebuds, and contrasted in an extraordinary fashion against pure, alabaster skin, sapphire eyes and full pink lips. The pale turn of her throat and the womanly curve of her bosom were elegant as a swan, her impossibly slender waist cinched tightly with an attractive silk ribbon, no doubt aided by the artistry of a fine corset, as was fashionable among ladies of noble rank.

Aware that he was staring too long to be proper, he cleared his throat self-consciously, but before he could speak to introduce himself to the mysterious young woman, she bestowed a dazzling smile and greeted him warmly.

“Lord Melbourne, it’s been too long. What a pleasure it is to see you again.”

As she spoke, he felt the blood rush to his face in shock and embarrassment. It was Princess Elizabeth _– this_ was the little girl whom he remembered so fondly, though a girl she was no more. He simply hadn’t recognised her, and thus had failed to give her the customary bow merited by her rank as Princess Royal.

“Your Royal Highness, I do beg your pardon” he said a tad gruffly, executing a low bow.

He was utterly dumfounded to find her so grown, and so mortified by his lapse in etiquette that he was grateful when King Alexander stepped in with a hearty laugh.

“Take heart, Melbourne” the King chuckled. “You are not the first man to have lost his tongue upon seeing the beauty my daughter has become – my little girl went away and has been replaced by a changeling fairy!”

“Stop, Papa!” the Princess chastised, an attractive blush rising in her cheeks.

“On the contrary, dear sister” Prince Frederick said humorously. “He must sing your praises to all the land until we find some hapless soul to marry you.”

The Princess frowned crossly, her brow knitted adorably in a way that Reddington recognised from her youth.

“And I daresay you’ll have no success” she retorted. “I’ve no intention of being married off, for the young men I’ve encountered in society are nothing but dullards and bores.”

“I’m sure they would not have you either when they hear what a sharp tongue you have!” Prince Frederick guffawed loudly, before returning to converse with his guests.

Reddington smiled to himself as he witnessed the Prince and Princess’s good-natured bickering, reminded vividly of their squabbling as children. He gratefully accepted the glass of champagne brought to him by a footman and took a deep sip, determined to recover his wits after having begun the evening so awkwardly. He looked up again to see the young Princess smiling expectantly at him, and, steeling himself, he went to join her.

“Your Royal Highness, I must apologise. I’m afraid in truth I did not recognise you at first” he confessed with a regretful smile.

She laughed sweetly then, her sapphire eyes sparkling. “Dearest Lord Melbourne, you need never apologise to me. But really – am I that much changed?”

“You are indeed, ma’am. I confess I did not expect to find you quite so grown.”

Reddington reached into his jacket pocket and produced his silver box of truffles, giving her a sheepish smile.

“I brought these for you as was our custom, though I fear you may no longer have the sweet tooth you once had and will have quite outgrown them.”

To his surprise and relief, the Princess gasped in delight when she saw the box, her hand flying to her mouth and her eyes dancing with mirth.

“Oh how wonderful of you to remember!” she exclaimed. “I assure you my sweet tooth is as present as it ever was.”

Reddington smiled warmly. “In that case ma’am, you shall have this” he said, presenting her with the box.

“Oh I couldn’t!” she exclaimed. “Your charming little chocolate box!”

“I absolutely insist” Reddington said genially.

“Thank you. That is so very kind of you” she said, looking wistfully at the little silver box. “What a wonderful memory of my childhood this is.”

“I am pleased to see that your ability to spar with your brother is something else you have retained from those days” Reddington observed with a small smile.

“Some things do not change. Like you” she continued, studying his face intently. “You are that exact same Lord Melbourne who used to chase me in the garden. You have not changed a bit.”

“You are very kind ma’am, though I fear I have quite a few more grey hairs than when we were last together. The British electorate are rather adept at keeping me on my toes, not to mention the Duke of Wellington and his opposition government.”

“Ah yes” the Princess nodded. “I must congratulate you on your election to a second term, Prime Minister. You are in danger of becoming as much a British institution as we are” she said with a smile.

Reddington laughed gently, delighted at both the compliment and the Princess’s wit. “Your Royal Highness is most generous, though I could never claim to hold a position in the British people’s hearts equal to your own.”

The Princess blinked at him then, her head canted questioningly. “Am I to be only ‘Your Royal Highness’ now?” she enquired softly. “I’d hate to think that these years apart have dampened the affection we once held.”

Reddington paused, taken aback, his tongue rolling against his lower lip as he considered how to answer her. He noted a slight flush in her cheeks, perhaps from the champagne.

“No indeed” he said slowly. “Though perhaps now that you are grown it would not be quite appropriate for a lowly politician such as myself to address the Princess Royal as ‘Little Lizzie’.”

“A lowly politician?” she repeated incredulously. “You are the Prime Minister of The United Kingdom and Ireland. Besides, I am sure it would be equally inappropriate to address the Prime Minister as ‘Reddington Bear’, but that is how I shall always think of you, Dear Lord Melbourne.”

Reddington smiled in spite of himself, flattered that she had clearly remembered him so fondly.

“In that case, Little Lizzie, it shall be our secret” he said in a low, humorous voice, eliciting an enchanting laugh of delight from her.

“How have you found your return to the palace?” he enquired then, partly out of interest, and partly to move to safer ground; he could not afford to be seen to be too familiar with the Princess Royal, however easy she appeared to be in his company.

She looked thoughtful for a moment, steeling a glance across the room to her where her family conversed with guests; her father and brother, and her sour-looking aunt and uncle, the Duke and Duchess of Cumberland.

“It has been wonderful to see Papa, and dear Frederick, however much he seeks to tease me” she said affectionately. “Though as I reacquaint myself with this place I am reminded of how much of my youth was spent in solitude, save for my aunt, whom I’m sure you will remember as a most austere influence in my life.”

“I do” Reddington said, feeling a pang in his heart for the lonely little girl she had been.

“In fact” she continued, “when I walk these halls now I am reminded that by far the happiest days of my childhood were spent with you, Lord Melbourne.”

Reddington’s lips parted a little in surprise at this pronouncement, and before he’d had a chance to formulate a suitable response, the Princess rose to her feet.

“Do forgive me, I suddenly find I am quite tired” she said with a regretful smile.

“Of course, ma’am” Reddington said politely, rising and offering her a bow. “I will bid you goodnight.”

“Thank you again for this” she said, holding the little silver chocolate box. “I am most touched.”

Reddington nodded in acknowledgement, and the Princess went to leave, before turning back hesitantly.

“I should like you to visit again, Lord Melbourne. Perhaps we might have tea Saturday next? Though I suppose a Prime Minister will have much more pressing calls upon his time” she added shyly.

Reddington smiled graciously. “Not at all. I should be delighted to accept.”

The Princess smiled, relief apparent on her striking porcelain features. “Excellent. I shall look forward to it. Goodnight, Lord Melbourne.”

“Goodnight, Your Royal Highness” Reddington answered, bowing his head respectfully.

He watched her thoughtfully as she bade goodnight to her family and other guests and left the room, her delicate silk skirts sweeping across the floor. How extraordinary that she had remembered him thus, and how strange it was to see that the little girl he cared for so dearly had become a young woman, and a very beautiful one at that.

He continued the necessary greetings and pleasantries throughout the rest of the evening, though by far the most interesting member of the party had left. Although she had gone, he felt the young Princess’s presence keenly still, like an image remaining in his vision after staring at the sun.

* * *

When the Princess returned to her rooms, she found herself feeling strangely faint, and was grateful to find her lady’s maid waiting for her. She breathed a great sigh of relief as the woman dutifully unlaced her corset, allowing her some much needed air. She observed herself in the looking-glass and saw that her cheeks were strangely flushed, despite the coolness of the room where the fire in the grate had yet to take hold.

“Martha” she said to her maid. “What do you think it means when a gentleman stares at you?”

“If he stares then I’d say he is no gentleman at all” the maid responded firmly as she began to let down the Princess’s hair.

“Oh no!” the Princess exclaimed. “He is surely a gentleman and a wise and kind one at that.”

“What do you think it means, ma’am?” the maid queried.

“Papa says he was struck dumb by my appearance” she answered slowly.

“I daresay the King is right. But your Royal Highness must beware of attentions from men who will be eager to take advantage of your youth and royal status.”

“I have already seen there are many who seek to take advantage. But this man… He is as gentle and well-intentioned as a man can be. In fact… I truly believe he may be one of the best men in England” she said, her eyes shining.

Her maid smiled as she finished smoothing the Princess’s dark tresses.

“Forgive me for saying ma’am, but perhaps you are a little young to fall in love. Why not wait a few years?”

The Princess turned around, her eyes wide and surprised.

“I am not in love! What a strange thing to say. I simply admire his character, that is all” she said firmly. “You may leave, Martha. I can manage the rest.”

Her maid nodded and bobbed a curtsy, leaving the Princess alone with her thoughts. How strange it was that her maid might think she was in love. It was quite ridiculous. One cannot fall in love with a man after one conversation, however handsome he is, she reasoned.

She looked at herself once again in the mirror, and blushed as she saw the outline of her breasts under the white cotton of her nightdress. She wondered if he had observed her bosom, and if it had been to his liking. Biting her lip, she placed her hand above her waist, wondering what it might feel like if she were to dance with him, if his large hand held her there. Her cheeks reddened at the thought, and, unnerved, she blew out her candles and retired to bed.


	3. The Most Beautiful Woman in England

Later that week, Reddington was sitting in his favourite lounge in the House of Commons in Westminster, relaxing after a lively parliamentary debate. He reclined in a worn leather armchair by an open fire, a generous measure of single malt in a crystal tumbler on the table next to him, and a cigar in his hand. He savoured the taste of the rich, woody smoke and allowed the tension in his muscles to unwind. He was an extremely skilled politician and a passionate yet measured orator, but that evening he felt every bit of his forty years.

“A superb performance this afternoon, Prime Minister – we shall have Wellington banged to rights in no time!”

He looked up to see his dear friend and chancellor Lord Gerard, brandy in hand, and gestured at him to sit.

“Marvin” he greeted him warmly, “come rest your bones with me. I am quite worn out.”

“Nonsense” Lord Gerard responded, waving his drink dismissively as he sat down. “Your energy in parliament never ceases to amaze me.”

Reddington smiled tiredly. “It takes its toll sometimes. But nothing a good single malt and a fine cigar won’t mend.”

“Indeed” Lord Gerard agreed heartily. “And so now that our business is done for the day, what say you we put politics aside and move to the meat of the conversation – idle gossip!”

Reddington laughed, cheered by his friend’s easy humour. “And what idle gossip do you have for me this evening, Marvin?” He asked, indulging him. “Don’t tell me – a Duchess has been discovered cavorting in some footman’s bed.”

“No, though it does concern a noblewoman” Lord Gerard said, lighting his cigar. “The Princess Royal, no less!”

Reddington tensed, a wave of protectiveness for the young Princess coming over him.

“Just last week I was at a Bar Association dinner” Lord Gerard continued, “and the Earl of Clarence was in attendance. As you know he is of advancing years and as dry and sober a fellow there never was – or so we thought! The conversation naturally turned to the Princess’s return, and he made the most _extraordinary_ pronouncement!”

The chancellor paused then for dramatic effect, much to Reddington’s irritation.

“Well?” said Reddington curtly. “What did he have to say of the Princess?”

Lord Gerard smiled in obvious delight.

“Would you believe he said that the Princess has grown so fair, so _very_ fair, mark you, that she might be considered the most beautiful woman in all England! Can you imagine! For such an unmovable old fellow to say such a thing, there must be something in it. But I forget! You yourself have also been welcomed at the palace of late – I can appeal to you for the truth of it.”

Reddington pursed his lips unhappily, an abundance of ill-will towards the Earl of Clarence and his loose tongue stirring in his gut.

“Well?” Lord Gerard pressed expectantly. “Is she such a beauty?”

Reddington leant forward and tapped the ash from his cigar into the silver tray on the table.

“She is but seventeen and not yet of age. I’d say the issue at hand here is not that of the Princess’s looks, but the Earl’s flagrant admiration for them” he answered testily.

“Oh come now Raymond” Lord Gerard scoffed. “That is a politician’s answer, and I will not be satisfied with it! It is a simple question: Is the Princess Royal so very fair that she could reasonably be considered the most beautiful woman in all of England?”

Reddington paused for a moment, working his jaw, before relenting. “I believe so.”

“Ah ha!” Lord Gerard cried, slapping his knee in delight.

“I daresay if not one, but _two_ great and sober Englishmen have made such a pronouncement, then she must be a great beauty indeed. I hope heartily to have the opportunity see her myself before long, after which I will find great amusement in watching a long line of aristocratic suitors wind around the gardens of Buckingham Palace, vying for her affection like ardent geese.”

Reddington laughed politely, and to his relief their conversation shifted to other matters, although the relaxation he had sought that evening now evaded him. His mind wondered repeatedly to the young Princess, to their upcoming afternoon tea, and to the prospect of her marrying, which Lord Gerard had raised so indelicately.

As Prime Minister, he would necessarily be required to advise the King on the relevant constitutional matters surrounding the match, and could even play an active role in selecting the likely candidate for her husband. As he drank his way to the bottom of the whisky decanter, he found the thought to be quite disagreeable.

* * *

When he arrived at the Palace at the allotted time for tea with the Princess he was uncharacteristically nervous. He dismissed the feeling quickly, and reasoned that young women were exceedingly more mercurial than the old, male politicians with whom he spent his days, and therefore it was only natural that he should feel some apprehension, especially when this particular young woman was the highest-ranking female in the country.

He was relieved to be shown into the pretty, walled garden terrace by the footman, rather than one of the formal, stuffy reception rooms. The Princess stood admiring the climbing roses, and turned as he was announced, a soft smile on her lips. As he took in her countenance he could no longer continue to deny the thought that had been lurking in the back of his mind since their last meeting.

The little girl he had so cared for so deeply had gone forever. She had become an enchantingly beautiful young woman, and one to whom he could not help but be drawn. She wore a pale blue silk that brought out the colour of her startling sapphire eyes, her dark hair framed her porcelain face in delightful curls and her complexion was delicate as apple blossom. Her dress was cut fashionably so that he was teased with the sight of the creamy tops of her shoulders and the delicate curve of her bosom beneath the tight bodice.

Aware that he risked repeating the same lapse in etiquette as he had managed on their last meeting, he bowed quickly, averting his eyes to the floor.

“Your Royal Highness.”

“Lord Melbourne, you are most welcome indeed” she greeted him warmly. “Won’t you sit down?”

“I’d be delighted, ma’am” he told her, lowing himself gratefully into a chair at the garden table, set pleasingly with a tea service and fine confectionary.

“ _Lizzie_ , please” she reminded him with a smile. “For it is just us and there is no one to hear.”

“Lizzie, then” he said with a polite smile. “Though I daresay the palace walls have more ears than any other building in London, even the Houses of Parliament.”

“I believe you are right” she said regretfully as she poured the tea, her delicate fingers gently manipulating the gilded fine bone china teapot.

“My aunt takes great sport in stalking me in the palace as though she were a lioness and I a stumbling gazelle. She cares not that I am nearly of age, and treats me quite as though I were still a child.”

“You are hardly a stumbling gazelle” Reddington huffed. “If the Duchess treats you poorly, perhaps it is because she is afraid that it is you, in fact, who are the lioness, and not she.”

The Princess smiled proudly, clearly very pleased at the image he had conjured. Reddington felt great satisfaction at having cheered her, though alarmed at how easily he had begun to flirt with the girl. He put it down to his politician’s silver tongue, and reasoned that it was only natural for him to enjoy conversing artfully with a girl as spirited and full of wit as the Princess.

“Did you know, now that I am out in society, the Duchess must curtsy to me” she told him in amusement.

“And how do you find her curtsy?”

“Somewhat shallow” she quipped and Reddington laughed heartily.

“Do the Duke and Duchess cause you much difficulty?” he enquired protectively then.

The young Princess pursed her full lips in a way that told him he’d hit his mark.

“My uncle is exceedingly jealous of Papa, and I believe my aunt quite fancies herself as queen. Would you believe they have been petitioning Papa to arrange a match between myself and their son, my cousin Prince George – can you imagine! He is a horrible, pompous young fellow who leers terribly at me and is without any wit at all.”

Reddington frowned. “And does the King entertain the idea of you marrying Prince George?”

“I hope not. I’m sure he knows it would be quite useless to pursue it even if he were so inclined, for I would sooner marry one of the toads from the ponds in the water garden” the Princess said firmly.

Reddington smiled, feeling more relief than was quite proper that the Princess had no inclination to marry the hapless young prince.

“Lady Clara told me the funniest thing” the Princess continued animatedly. “There’s a rhyme that has become popular among the children of some of the courtiers: _Georgie Porgie pudding and pie, kissed the girls and made them cry!”_

Reddington’s lip twitched in amusement. “I am aware of it, ma’am.”

“I think a girl should only be kissed if she is so inclined” the Princess said then, looking at him tentatively.

“Quite so. And perhaps, not even then.” Reddington answered guardedly.

The Princess looked away across the garden, and Reddington felt a swell of compassion for her that she should have to endure the politics of royal life and pressure to marry at such a young age. 

“Of course, eventually my brother Frederick will be King, and if the matter is not settled by then, I will be his to dispose of” she said unhappily. “How strange it is not to be able to choose one’s own fate.”

“I sincerely hope you will have your say in the matter” Reddington said with a frown. “Besides, you are not yet of age. Surely it will be some time before you are required to consider such things, ma’am.”

The Princess smiled ruefully. “One would hope, but sadly the palace post tray is already filling with letters and invitations, each with a thinly disguised plea to enter some prince or earl’s son into consideration for my hand. They care not whether there is any affection there, only about the social standing that marrying the Princess Royal would bring. It is quite unbearable.”

Shrewd as he was, Lord Gerard had been right about the long line of suiters vying for her hand, and Reddington found himself once again exceedingly put out by the idea.

“May I enquire as to who these precipitous suiters are?” he asked, schooling his tone to one of mild interest.

“There’s my cousin Prince George, as you know, and the Earl of Richmond’s son Lord Nicholas who is a frightful bore, and Reginald Turner who is grandson to Lady Morton, whom I believe may not be quite right in the head however much Lady Morton attempts to promote him. Of course there is the Scottish Prince Donald – he is a worthy young man I am sure, though he has no great conversation and I do not feel that he has any particular interest in becoming my husband aside from the ambition of his family. Besides, I should hate to spend my days shut away in a draughty Scottish castle” she mused.

“There is also a German Prince, Thomas of Coburg, with whom I am not acquainted. He is a distant relative on my mother’s side and I know very little of him other than he writes eloquently enough in his request to visit me in England. As you can see, Lord Melbourne, it is all rather tiresome.”

Reddington raised his eyebrows as she spoke. It was clear that the nation’s great families, and even some from abroad, had wasted no time in creating a race for the young Princess’s hand.

“Some might find the speed with which these invitations have been made to be a little unseemly, especially given your Royal Highness’s youth” he observed.

The young Princess smiled wanly at him from over her tea cup. “I rather think you are right. There is also the appalling assumption that I should have an interest in marrying a man I have never met, as though my feelings are of no consequence.”

“It does indeed lack the romance one would hope would inspire the union of matrimony” Reddington said carefully.

“Yes!” she agreed animatedly. “For what is a marriage without romance? I should like to fall quite hopelessly in love” she added wistfully.

Reddington smiled softly, touched by the young Princess’s quixotic belief in romantic love. “In that case you should accept nothing less, ma’am” he said resolutely.

She looked at him, drawing her bottom lip adorably between her teeth. “I shall try. Though in truth I feel that a marriage of convenience is all anyone thinks about since my return to court. It is such a relief to be able to share my private thoughts and fears with you, Lord Melbourne” she added softly.

“If I may ever be of service to you, ma’am” Reddington said quietly. “If you are ever in need of an ally. Please know that you have one in me.”

She looked up at him brightly then, a warm smile lighting up her stunning features.

“Dear Reddington Bear. You were always so kind to me. Papa is holding a ball to welcome me back to court. Naturally you are invited in your capacity as Prime Minister, but I should like to extend a personal invitation to you - as my friend” she said shyly.

Reddington smiled affectionately, exceedingly flattered at her interest in him.

“In that case ma’am, I should be delighted to accept.”


	4. A Royal Ball

As the evening of the ball arrived, Princess Elizabeth felt uncharacteristically jittery, uneasy at being shown off to London society. Were she honest with herself, she would also admit to feeling more than a little nervous as to how she might interact with Lord Melbourne that evening. She worried greatly that he might not ask her to dance. And what if he did ask her? Would she blush too much and give away her preoccupation with him? Would he think her young and foolish?

Though the Princess was not excessively absorbed in her looks, she had taken steps to ensure that she appeared her best that evening. She wore a gauzy white silk, decorated with delicate blue and silver silk rosebuds at the neckline, which was cut in a fashionable ‘v’ shape. It allowed a hint of her bosom to be seen, for a hint was all that was acceptable for a woman of her rank.

As Princess Royal she had the right to wear one of the royal tiaras, of which her father had generously let her have her pick. She had chosen the Lotus Tiara, a delicate but stunning configuration of pearls and diamonds that nestled strikingly against her dark curls. Her corset was laced tightly, and though she had naturally porcelain skin, she could already detect a pink hue in her cheeks as a result of excitement and slightly restricted breathing. She was not given to vanity, but as she took one last look at herself before descending to the ballroom, she hoped that Lord Melbourne might be pleased with her appearance.

She did not have to wait long, for being a gentleman of impeccable manners, he wasted no time in presenting himself to her. As he approached, she observed his lips part a little and his eyes widen, and she felt her skin heat under his gaze.

“Lord Melbourne, you are most welcome indeed” she greeted him warmly.

“Your Royal Highness” he said with a bow, his voice a deep baritone. “How very well you look” he added softly.

“You are very kind” she replied, smiling shyly, pleased at the way he had been affected on seeing her.

She looked at him expectantly, hoping fervently that he would take the opportunity to reserve a dance, but was sadly disappointed. Her uncle and aunt the Duke and Duchess of Cumberland approached her at that moment and the Prime Minister deferred politely to allow her to greet them, without so much a mention of a dance.

“Your Royal Highness” the Duke said with an obsequious smile, without waiting for her to speak first as was customary. “Capital event, quite splendid. I expect you to reserve at least two dances for Prince George of course” he instructed pompously. “My boy has been eagerly anticipating your return.”

The Princess smiled sweetly at her relatives. “Welcome, Uncle, Aunt. If my cousin wishes to dance, I’m sure he will ask me himself” she said pointedly, before turning to greet other guests.

Regrettably, Prince George did ask her to dance on several occasions, and she had to endure the sweaty hand of her pompous and rather rotund cousin holding her entirely too close. The evening was progressing fast, and she grew increasingly frustrated at the Prime Minister’s lack of participation; he certainly made enough conversation with guests, but not only had he not sought the opportunity to dance with her, but he had not taken even one lady’s hand that evening. She looked in dismay at her dance card, which was growing alarmingly full and, emboldened by champagne, she decided to approach him.

“Are you not inclined to dance, Lord Melbourne, for I note you have not engaged a single partner this evening.”

“Ah” he rumbled conspiratorially. “There I thought my transgression would go unnoticed given the number of far more qualified gentlemen present.”

The Princess smiled in amusement. “You can hardly hope to fade into the background, Lord Melbourne – it would be quite impossible for you. I’m sure there are numerous young ladies nursing disappointment that you have not offered to stand up with them.”

“Quite the contrary, ma’am” Reddington laughed. “I’m sure they are pleased that their poor toes have been spared my ineptitude.”

“I find it hard to believe that anyone so skilled in the dance of politics should be so very lacking in the ballroom” the Princess said earnestly as she took a sip of her champagne to calm her nerves.

“And yet it is sadly so” he said soberly. “But you ma’am, I see, are most accomplished. If I may say, it has been a pleasure to witness. Your education in Austria was clearly not lacking in this respect.”

The Princess blushed slightly, relieved to receive his compliment after his stubborn refusal to ask her to dance.

“Thank you, though it was unfortunately lacking in many other respects” she added sadly. “There are so many things I should have liked to have studied, but my peculiar curriculum was designed to encompass only that which was felt appropriate for a Princess and wife to learn. Needlework, calligraphy, music... Though I did take it upon myself to procure as many novels as I could during my time away, for all their attempts to tell me that a woman who is too well-read is quite unattractive.”

Reddington canted his head with interest. “I assure you a well-read mind could never be unattractive in my eyes, ma’am.”

“Even if it is mine?” she asked with a smile.

“ _Especially_ if it is yours” he said seriously, and she felt her cheeks flush a little. “I too take great enjoyment in literature” he added. “May I ask your favourites?”

“Oh I love adventures” she told him excitedly. “ _Gulliver’s Travels_ and _Robinson Crusoe_ … But I think my favourite must be that marvellous gothic story by Mary Shelley – _Frankenstein_ or _The Modern Prometheus_. Do you know it?”

Reddington paused and looked a little taken aback, as well he might – it was a complex and shocking book that was not generally considered appropriate reading for ladies of her rank. He did not look displeased though, and when he answered her it was with excitement rather than censure.

“I know it well, ma’am. Indeed, I think it to be not only a greatly compelling tale, but an important lesson to those of us who hold power over people’s lives. We are responsible for our creations, whether they be monsters, or acts of parliament.”

The Princess listened to his deep, mesmerising voice and thought her heart would burst with admiration and delight.

“I could not agree more” she told him, her eyes shining and heart racing. “I wonder…” she began hesitantly.

“Ma’am?”

“I wonder if perhaps you would consider acting as my tutor. There are so many aspects of my education that I’m sure you would be able to improve. As a modern princess I feel it is my duty to be aware of history and politics.”

Reddington raised his eyebrows in surprise at her request, though she was reassured by his smile.

“I quite agree. I should be honoured to instruct you ma’am, though the King would need to approve such an arrangement.”

“Oh I’m sure he will! I know he admires you greatly, as I do” Princess Elizabeth told him excitedly.

She took a further sip of her champagne for courage, and decided that she would give one last try at enticing him to dance.

“Lord Melbourne, as you have agreed to teach me, perhaps you might allow me to return the favour in some small way. If you were at all inclined to dance, I should be a most patient instructor and I assure you my toes would forgive all your missteps in the name of encouraging you onto the floor…”

Reddington laughed heartily at that, and paused a moment before answering, his tongue nestled thoughtfully inside his lower lip.

“In that case ma’am, I do believe I hear a waltz starting up, which may be within my capabilities. If you’d do me the honour.”

The Princess beamed happily, relieved that he’d taken her rather heavy hint. “I’d be delighted, Lord Melbourne.”

She accepted his hand gracefully, and her heart fluttered as he spun her onto the floor with a deftness that belied his claim to be a poor dance partner. As they danced he looked down at her with an affectionate smile, his eyes sparkling with delight as he turned her around the floor. The exhilaration she had felt earlier returned tenfold, and she marvelled at how attentive he was, his eyes never leaving her face, and his hand resting lightly but confidently at her back. 

“You waltz so very well!” she told him somewhat giddily. “I see now that you are full of false modesty.”

“Thank you, ma’am. But in truth it is much easier when one’s partner is so skilled… and anticipates every turn” he finished, spinning her with an amused glint in his eye.

As she returned to his embrace her lips parted breathlessly and she felt a pleasantly warm feeling radiating from the point where he held her. She looked up at him, her cheeks flushed as the music drew to a close and he held her still for a moment, his hand now daringly firm and warm on her back.

“You have deceived us all wickedly, Lord Melbourne” she breathed, “for you are as accomplished a dance partner as I could ever hope for… I wish I could dance with you every night” she murmured quietly, gazing up at him, her blue eyes shining with exhilaration.

He returned her gaze and she felt her heartbeat quicken. She could feel herself grow warm, and a pleasant dizziness came over her, the champagne catching up with her a little. He was holding her quite tightly now, perhaps because he desired it, perhaps to prevent her from swaying, gentleman as he was.

“You are too young to dance every night” he replied with gentle firmness. “And I am too old.”

“I am seventeen!” she retorted, stepping back and holding herself up to her full height, her adorable nose slightly aloft. “And you are not old, Reddington Bear” she added decisively.

“If only that were true” he said with a sad smile.

He bowed genteelly and kissed her gloved hand before departing into the crowd. She stood where he left her, collecting her muddled thoughts, when she was joined by a seasoned courtier, Lady Clara Stanley.

“You are most favoured indeed, Your Royal Highness!” the woman told her excitedly.

“Whatever do you mean?” The Princess enquired.

“Why, dancing with Lord Melbourne.”

Princess Elizabeth frowned in puzzlement. “I suppose it is a great thing to dance with a Prime Minister” she answered, a little confused.

Lady Clara looked surprised. “No ma’am, I mean that Lord Melbourne has not danced with a single soul since his poor wife died! But of course, you are only recently out in society and are not aware.”

The Princess’s eyes widened. “Do you mean to say it has been all these years since he danced?”

“It has indeed! He has always given the excuse that he dances poorly or is not in the best humour, but it is well known that now that his wife is gone he will not dance with another. That is, until tonight. It will be the talk of the town, ma’am, I should warn you.”

“Oh dear” Princess Elizabeth said, chastened. “I had no idea. I’m afraid I made it quite clear that I wanted to dance – perhaps he felt such an obligation that I forced his hand.”

Lady Clara laughed at that.

“Really ma’am, you shouldn’t worry. The Prime Minister is known to be an extremely resolute and even stubborn man, and is quite capable of refusing to bend to the will of others. Indeed he has been known to refuse even the King’s influence on occasion. No, if he danced with you it is because he wanted to… He is very handsome, do you not think ma’am?” she added slyly.

“He is a fine man” the Princess said politely, hoping that her expression did not give away the butterflies she felt in her stomach.

He had not danced with another after his wife, until _her_. The thought made her feel quite lightheaded. Of course it was possible that he felt some obligation or merely affection towards her, having known her since childhood. Though it was likely one of these, she could not help but hope that it was something else, that, despite his reservations about her youth, he admired the woman she had become and wanted to dance with her.

She longed for him to ask her again but he did not, and, she reasoned, he would know that to dance with her a second time might set tongues wagging to a point where their reputations would be at risk. She settled for observing him from afar for the remainder of the evening, and found herself counting the hours till she might reasonably ask him to visit her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my head they danced to The Vienna Blood Waltz, op.354, though this wasn't actually written until after this is set. Strauss waltzes are the soundtrack to this fic! This scene was inspired by the TV show Victoria.


	5. Lessons in Love

As the young Princess had predicted, the King was only too pleased to agree to have Lord Melbourne tutor his daughter, delighted that she took such an interest in the finer points of history and politics. He should have liked the admirable Prime Minister to tutor his son Prince Frederick too, but regrettably it would not be proper for a Prime Minister, current or former, to tutor the future monarch as it would draw the monarch’s political impartiality into question and undermine the constitutional duty of the crown. He settled for his most beloved daughter receiving the education he desired, and provided a luxurious sitting room for the purpose of their meeting.

When the day came for her first lesson, the Princess was as nervous as a pheasant before a shoot. She regarded herself in the mirror, looking at her beautifully ringleted hair, intricate lace collar and fine lilac silk dress. Whether she wanted it or not, her maid dutifully dressed and coiffed her every morning to ensure that she was impeccably turned out, as befits the Princess Royal.

Regarding her doll-like appearance, she fretted that the Prime Minister would think her more concerned with her looks than her studies. What if, as a man of incredible wisdom and knowledge, he found her so very lacking? Her nerves were not helped by the fact that, as Lady Clara had predicted, her waltz with the Prime Minister had been reported in some of the newspapers, with a salacious undertone in some of the less reputable columns.

“Lord Melbourne” the footman said, announcing Reddington, and she turned, a slight blush in her cheeks.

“Your Royal Highness” Reddington greeted her warmly and she smiled, recovering herself.

“Lord Melbourne I cannot tell you what a privilege it is to receive your tutelage. In truth I fear I am not worthy of it, though I am eager to learn.”

Reddington canted his head affectionately. “Ma’am you have already shown yourself to be a most imaginative and able student. The privilege is mine.”

The young Princess smiled shyly and gestured to the large mahogany table laden with books, paper and ink pens. “Shall we?”

“Indeed, ma’am” Reddington said, removing a scroll from a package he carried and laying it upon the table. “I thought we might begin with a recent, important example of legislative change – your father’s great matter, as he called it.”

The young Princess looked earnestly at the paper he had laid out, her brow creasing as she observed the tiny script.

“The Act of Succession” she read aloud. “Why is Papa concerned with the succession? Surely My brother Frederick will be king.”

“That he will ma’am, but some years ago your father approached me with a concern about a constitutional irregularity regarding the royal succession. He observed that he only had one son, your brother Frederick, and in the event that Frederick had only daughters to succeed him, then the crown would pass to your cousin Prince George, or any sons he may have if he was no longer living.”

“George!” the Princess exclaimed. “That would be quite terrible. I do not like to think of it.”

Reddington smiled wryly. “Your father felt the same way ma’am, which is why he was most insistent on making a change to the Act of Succession that would ensure that a monarch’s children would succeed him first, whatever their gender, even if there were close living male relatives.”

“That seems sensible” the Princess observed.

Reddington cocked his head with a knowing smile. “Perhaps it does to enlightened folk such as you and I, but I can assure you it was an extremely controversial move at the time, and hotly contested.”

“By my uncle, no doubt” the Princess said sardonically.

“Indeed ma’am, and there is your first lesson. Acts of parliament, however dry and general, have real world consequences, and will be seen thus by any who may be affected by them.”

The Princess looked at him thoughtfully. “So although it was entirely hypothetical, and quite possible that my brother will have sons, my uncle still felt as though he’d lost the crown.”

“Precisely, ma’am. The Duke was enraged. For a monarch to produce a male heir has been a constant requirement throughout history, and as you know, it has not always been possible. It would not be entirely unreasonable for your uncle to hope that your brother would not be able to produce a male heir by the time of his death.”

“Not unreasonable perhaps, though extremely churlish” Princess Elizabeth said firmly. “I suppose that is why he is now so set on my marrying his son, for he must feel it is the best option he has for his lineage remaining close to the crown.”

Reddington blinked at her, greatly impressed by her observation.

“Your Highness, I believe you are not as lacking in a political education as you think” he remarked. “As you correctly discern, the art is in seeing past the papers to the people involved, their motives, hopes, fears…”

“I think I now see _your_ motive, Lord Melbourne” the Princess said then, a small smile on her lips.

Reddington felt his heart speed up a little at her comment, and attempted to school his features into something approaching neutrality.

“My motive, ma’am?”

“Yes” the Princess said, her smile broadening. “I believe you brought me this lesson so that I might better address the pressure on me to marry, in particular that which comes from my uncle.”

Reddington nodded. He knew now that nothing would escape her, and was only glad that she did not appear to resent his attempt to relate his lesson to her personal affairs.

“It was very kind of you,” she said then “to help me better understand my own situation.”

“I only hope that I have not overstepped my mark, Your Royal Highness” Reddington said guardedly.

“Oh not at all!” the young Princess exclaimed. “I am most grateful. In fact, dear Reddington Bear, I do not think it would be possible for you to overstep your mark, not with me” she added breathlessly.

“I assure you it would” Reddington said soberly.

“Not at all! Why you… you could _kiss_ me and I would not consider it an imposition” she blurted then, her cheeks flushed.

Reddington’s lips parted in surprise, and for a moment he had no words, skilled orator though he was. He recovered quickly though, knowing that he needed to tread very delicately.

“And yet it would be a great imposition nonetheless” he said quietly, “however much you – or I – might desire it in the moment.”

The Princess felt her breathing quicken, suddenly very aware of the tightness of her bodice. He _desired_ her – is that what he had meant? Or was he just kindly rebuffing her inappropriate comment? She composed herself as best she could, giving him a polite smile.

“I have found this lesson to be extremely enlightening, Lord Melbourne” she said genteelly. “I do hope that I might count on receiving your tutelage again soon. Shall we say this time next week?”

“If it pleases Your Royal Highness” Reddington answered politely. “I shall look forward to it.”

He bowed to her and made his way from the room, his heart beating quickly in his chest. He knew that he should have refused her, that he should have put an end to their flirtation. He could not in good conscience deceive himself that it was harmless, for it was not harmless at all; unlikely as it was after his years spent in solitude, he was in great danger of falling deeply in love with the beautiful young Princess.

* * *

The week passed slowly for Reddington, with both his waking hours and his dreams dominated by thoughts of Princess Elizabeth. It didn’t help matters that she had become the talk of the town; speculation as to whom she might marry was rife in parliament, while her choice of silks and lace seemed to dominate fashion pamphlets and even found its way into some respectable newspapers. She had quickly become the nation’s darling as rumours of her beauty and wit had spread, making it quite impossible for Reddington to relieve himself of thoughts of her. 

Some of his fantasies were chaste enough; he would spin her delicate form around the ballroom floor once again, taking pleasure in the warmth of her slender waist under his hand. Others were more shameful, his fingers tugging impatiently at the laces of her corset, eager to free her sweet little breasts to his gaze and touch. In the privacy of his own thoughts he recalled the modest swell of her delicate bosom under the silk of her ballgown, and longed to see her rosy nipples, to taste and suckle them.

When he arrived at the palace for his scheduled lesson with Princess Elizabeth he was quite on edge, unsure as to whether his disturbed thoughts had blown their small flirtation out of proportion; would the Princess have forgotten him in favour of another beau, or would she look at him softly the way she had during their last meeting?

As he entered the private sitting room used for their lessons, she greeted him with a warm smile that tickled his heart gladly. She wore an attractive pale pink and white muslin that brought out the rosiness of her delicate complexion, and was cut distractingly low on her bosom. The lace of the neckline was pinned delicately at the centre with a small diamond broach that drew his eye to where he had no business looking. He found himself wondering whether she had intended it that way, or whether he was imagining an innocent girl to be entirely more guileful than she really was.

“Your Royal Highness” he said, greeting her with a polite bow. “I thought today we might examine the laws surrounding taxation, taking The Brittany Affair as our example.”

The young Princess cocked her head at him with a small smile, her dark ringlets bouncing against her cheek.

“Taxation, Lord Melbourne? Do you not think it is a little peculiar to go from the intrigue of succession and marriage, to the comparatively prosaic world of tax law?”

“Your Highness finds the topic tedious?” Reddington answered, raising his eyebrows.

Princess Elizabeth bit her lip in a rather coy fashion. “Not tedious, Lord Melbourne, though perhaps a little… safe.”

“If I may say, Your Highness, perhaps a little safety is in order at present” Reddington said guardedly. “The Brittany affair, while ostensibly about tax law, is also a fine example of what happens when those in political office act inappropriately.”

“I see” the Princess said, looking at him thoughtfully. “It’s a wonderful day outside – would you care to take a turn in the gardens? I think a lesson on acting inappropriately might be one best given away from prying eyes” she finished with a small smile.

Reddington pushed his tongue impatiently against his bottom teeth, suddenly feeling more out of his depth than he ever had in the shark pit that was his parliament.

“I’d be delighted, ma’am. Though perhaps we should find a suitable chaperone to accompany us” he said pointedly.

“A chaperone?” the young Princess repeated with a mischievous smile. “I am not afraid of you, Lord Melbourne” she challenged.

Reddington swallowed. Young though she was, she had bested him. “Ma’am, it is I who am afraid.”

The young Princess stilled then, her sapphire eyes looking at him intently. “What could you possibly be afraid of?” she asked softly.

“I… find I have a lot to lose.”

“You think me a thief?” the Princess asked, amused.

“Yes ma’am, I do” Reddington answered with a pained smile. “In truth… I think you are a thief of hearts. And I fear, unlikely as it is after all these years, I am in danger of losing mine” he said quietly.

The Princess’s full lips parted and she gasped gently.

“I see that you do indeed have a lot to lose, for your heart would be a great prize indeed. If I were to obtain it… I should keep it safe and cherish it so very dearly” she whispered breathlessly.

Reddington closed his eyes momentarily, pursing his lips with the effort of holding himself back, for in that moment he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and kiss her deeply.

“I fear there are other things that would depart with it that you cannot keep safe, ma’am” he said, his voice low and pained. “My honour. Integrity. My duty to your father the King.”

He paused and shook his head. “Ma’am, most regrettably… I think it best that I do not continue to act as your tutor.”

“Why?” She cried plaintively, her brow wrinkling adorably in displeasure.

“You know why, ma’am” he said firmly.

A blush had crept over her chest and into her cheeks and her deep blue eyes glittered angrily.

“Papa will be most displeased with you” she said haughtily.

“I will write to the King and explain that parliamentary business has regrettably drawn me away, and recommend a new tutor for you” Reddington responded gently, wishing that he could soothe the pain from which her temper clearly stemmed.

“I don’t want a new tutor” she snapped childishly. “There is only you, Lord Melbourne” she whispered then.

“Ma’am, regretfully I must take my leave. I am deeply sorry for any injury I have caused” he finished softly, and departed with a bow.

The young Princess turned away from him so as to prevent him from seeing the tears stinging her eyes. When the door closed behind him she surveyed the table in front of her, her desolation mounting, until in a fit of anger she seized the pen and ink and threw them across the scattered papers, leaving a black stain in their wake.


	6. An Honest Man

In truth, Reddington feared greatly that King Alexander would discern the true reason that he had abandoned lessons with his daughter, shrewd as he was, but it happened that the King was too distracted to think much of it. That week brought grave news of a rebellion growing in the British Caribbean territories that preoccupied much of the King’s time, and Reddington’s also.

A dispute surrounding the sugar trade to the United Kingdom was gathering momentum, such that the crown risked a full-blown revolt if swift action were not taken. After much deliberation, the King determined that he and Prince Frederick would go on a grand royal tour of the affected region, reasoning that if people were to see their monarch and the future king Prince Frederick, it would restore their patriotic sentiment.

Reddington had just left a meeting with the King to discuss the details of the trip when he turned and saw Princess Elizabeth standing in the corridor, observing him. He had not seen her on his previous recent visits to the palace and knew enough to realise that she had been avoiding him. Her absence made the impact of seeing her now all the greater, and he felt a great tug inside himself on seeing her beautiful countenance. A wave of sadness washed over him, knowing that he must leave her again, that he could never have her, and that she hadn’t forgiven him for it.

He swallowed hard, and bowed respectfully to her, before turning to leave.

“Lord Melbourne, I would speak with you” she said firmly, her tone icy and determined.

He turned back in surprise, regarding her for a moment. He considered refusing her but could not bring himself to do it.

“As you wish, ma’am.”

She nodded tightly and walked with him in silence to the private sitting room where they had begun their lessons, and closed the door behind them.

She turned and looked at him and he could not help but be glad of an opportunity to gaze upon her beauty again. Her face was no less exquisite for the anxious expression she wore and, not for the first time, he marvelled that such a gorgeous creature should ever have taken an interest in him. Her dress was white and tied with a blue sash, reminding him of her childhood wardrobe and making her appear even younger than her years.

“You know that Papa and Frederick are abandoning me for a tour of the Caribbean territories?” she asked anxiously.

“I am aware of the Royal Tour, ma’am” Reddington said gently. “The Sugar Laws have thrown fuel on the fire of an already volatile situation in the area. Your father is keen to avoid losing control of the British territories and feels the matter merits his presence, and that of your brother.”

“So he does. They are to be gone months in their quest to restore the region’s fidelity to the crown” she said, agitated. “And I am to be left behind, superfluous as I am” she added bitterly.

“You are not superfluous, ma’am. You could never be superfluous” he added quietly.

She looked at him in silence for a moment, a pained expression on her face. “I will be left once again in the care of my Uncle and Aunt, the Duke and Duchess of Cumberland” she told him, unable to keep her voice from trembling a little. “I know that things are not well between us Lord Melbourne, and I am sorry for it. But I have no one else I can trust. Oh Reddington Bear, I am so frightened!”

Reddington frowned, deeply concerned. “Whatever has passed between us, you must know how deeply I prize your wellbeing. You may always confide in me, no matter what. Now in God’s name, tell me what has you so afraid so that I might be of immediate assistance!”

She stared at him then, her large eyes and quivering lip almost enough to break his heart.

“My uncle has escalated his petition to marry me to his son, putting such pressure on dear Papa that I’m sure he may be worn down. Even now he solicits allies among those at court, all whispering in my father’s ear.”

“And what does the King say?” Reddington asked, his frown deepening.

“Papa has not approved the match, but neither has he refused. He says he will not speak of it further with me until he returns from the Royal Tour. His unwillingness to refuse my uncle’s demands has me most concerned.”

Reddington pursed his lips, privately cursing the King’s preoccupation with the Royal Tour and his failure to put the Princess’s mind at rest.

“It is regrettable that the King is unable to address the issue of your cousin’s suit at present, but I assure you he will not act capriciously in this matter” he told her gently. “You are safe until the King’s return, after which you have my word I will do my part to advise him that such a match would not be favourable.”

He hoped that his kind words would reassure her, but to his dismay, his promises only seemed to render her more tremulous than ever.

“But that is just it, Lord Melbourne” she said sadly. “I do not believe I am safe until Papa’s return. Prince George himself has begun to stalk me in the palace these past weeks, his eyes wild and his manners increasingly untoward… I am afraid that with Papa and Frederick gone away he has the perfect opportunity.”

Reddington’s eyes narrowed, an unpleasant feeling stirring in his gut. “Opportunity…” he repeated. “What do you mean? You may speak plainly with me, indeed I insist upon it” he said urgently, though he was sure he did not want to hear her answer.

The Princess blushed miserably, her thumb rubbing agitatedly over her palm. “I believe they may attempt to… force… a marriage while there is no one to protect me” she explained hesitantly, her voice quiet with disgust and embarrassment.

“Papa can hardly refuse a marriage to my cousin if he returns and finds I am ruined. If I were not to marry Prince George under such circumstances then both I and the entire Royal Family would be disgraced beyond redemption. Oh Lord Melbourne, if you care at all for me you will not abandon me to these vultures who seek to destroy me!” she pleaded.

Reddington’s eyes darkened as she spoke, flashing with anger and protectiveness towards the young Princess.

“I will _never_ allow that to happen” he said sharply, rage burning inside him that an innocent young woman should have to be in fear of such a reprehensible scheme. “Be assured that I will mobilise the King’s guard and take every measure necessary to protect you in the King’s absence. The world will burn before I allow you to be harmed” he said heatedly, unable to keep the passion from his voice.

Her face lit up hopefully at his impassioned speech and she went to him then, standing so close that he could lean down and kiss her if he chose to. She looked up at him, her beautiful blue eyes framed by dark lashes.

“It could not happen if I were already married” she breathed, gazing up at him earnestly.

Reddington’s mouth dropped open in amazement that she should have developed such deep feelings, his heart swelling at the idea of making her his bride, impossible though it surely was.

“You are very young” he said, swallowing hard.

“I am old enough to be at court” she retorted.

“Because your royal status allows it” he countered gently. “You are not yet eighteen.”

“I am old enough to fall passionately in love!” she said hotly, and flushed scarlet the moment the words had left her mouth.

He was floored. He had no more words for her, only a heart that threatened to burst from his chest with the depth of feeling he was harbouring. To hear that the Princess Royal was in love with him… wanted to be his wife…That such a stunning and charming girl could care so deeply for him… It stirred him in ways he thought he could never feel again.

“I know you to be a scrupulously honest man, Lord Melbourne” she continued breathily. “You would never lie to me.”

“No, ma’am. I would not” he croaked.

“Then tell me that you do not love me” she said earnestly, her blue eyes wide and searching his for some clue as to his feelings. “Tell me you do not love me and I will not trouble you to speak further.”

Reddington stayed silent, a pained expression on his face.

“ _There_ ” she said breathlessly. “You cannot! You cannot tell me because you feel as I do, I know it!”

Reddington’s lip curled with emotion. In all his years as Prime Minister he had faced rebels, uprisings and constitutional crises with serenity, but nothing had prepared him for the turmoil of allowing himself to love a woman as he loved the beautiful young Princess.

“We cannot be together” he said, shaking his head with a grieved expression. “You must understand that. To think of what could have been under different circumstances will bring nothing but pain. Save your heart and give it to someone who is free to take it” he said, his eyes creasing sadly.

The Princess raised her eyebrows, her jaw set firmly. “I do _not_ understand that, Lord Melbourne. We are both unmarried and free to wed.”

Reddington closed his eyes momentarily and took a deep breath in an attempt to keep his patience. “I am a widower, and many years your senior. Added to that I am but a politician. Hardly an appropriate match for The Princess Royal.”

“You are the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom and Ireland!”

“All the more reason that the match would be inappropriate. The royal family must retain their impartiality in the world of politics, it is a sacred duty of the crown. For a high-ranking member of the royal family to marry a member of parliament would be unconstitutional. Even if that were not the case, I have not the necessary status or social standing.”

“You are a viscount” she countered.

“Yes – and you are destined to marry a prince.”

The young Princess lifted her chin stubbornly.

“My brother will be King, he is the one who must remain impartial. Such restrictions are insurmountable for him, but it is not so for me – I am merely a Princess, with no influence in affairs of state. I have every faith that Papa will give us his blessing, for I know he admires you deeply. I may be young, but I am just as intractable as you, Lord Melbourne. You will find that you have met your match in me” she finished firmly.

Reddington’s eyes widened as she spoke, astounded by her tenacity and so taken with the thought of making her his that he found himself at quite a loss. He smiled as she finished her speech, shaking his head in astonishment.

“I believe I have, ma’am. I believe I have” he repeated softly, staring down at her in wonder. “If you truly wish it, I will approach the King to ask for your hand when he returns from his Royal Tour, by which time you will have had your eighteenth birthday.”

The Princess gasped in disbelief and happiness, and Reddington raised his hands in a plea for her to pause her celebrations.

“Before his return you should think carefully about what this would mean, and if it is really what you want. You must understand that the crown must be, and must be _seen_ to be entirely impartial in the world of politics. It is the cornerstone of a constitutional monarchy, an utterly fundamental duty of the crown to the people. If the King were to permit us to marry, which is by no means certain, I would need to resign from political life entirely. Your Royal Highness too would need to step back entirely from official duties, and could no longer be a formal representative of the royal family. These conditions would endure for the rest of our lives.”

Reddington paused, shaking his head in concern. “Elizabeth, you need to take time to consider how this would change your life. We would have to live quietly, away from London and entirely away from the public gaze.”

“I care nothing for the publicity of royal life” the Princess breathed. “Truly there is nothing you can say that will dissuade me. My only wish is to be with you. Now it is I who must implore _you_ to understand, dear Reddington Bear. A life with you is the only thing that will ease my heart. Papa will permit it when he knows it is the only key to my happiness, I’m sure of it!”

“That, or he may very well take me out at dawn and shoot me” Reddington replied, only half in jest.

Princess Elizabeth broke into a beautiful smile. “That is quite impossible, if he loves you the tiniest bit as much I love you” she said, tilting her chin up tentatively.

He knew it was inadvisable in so many ways, but in that moment Reddington’s heart was soaring and there was nothing else he could do but kiss her. Gently lifting his hand to cup her cheek, he marvelled in the feel of her smooth alabaster skin under his palm and the brush of her silky ringlets against his fingers. In that magical moment when he finally brought his lips to hers, he knew he would belong to her forever.


	7. Coming of Age

On the day of Princess Elizabeth’s eighteenth birthday, Reddington visited her at the palace, glad of the opportunity to celebrate with her in person. When he entered their sitting room, he found her as beautiful a creature as she had ever been, her dress of white with delicate blue embroidered flowers, her luxurious dark hair gathered in curls around her shoulders. He paused to admire her, causing her to smile and blush a little.

“Are you staring at me, sir?” she asked coquettishly.

He smiled, still unable to believe that he had won the heart of this darling girl.

“Yes, my Lizzie, I am staring at you. What man could help it? You grow lovelier each day.”

She turned prettily for him. “Do you find me different? I am of age now, you know.”

Reddington ran his tongue appreciatively along his lower lip. “Different, no. I find you…enchanting” he said with a smile.

He went to her then, kissing her hand affectionately and allowing his lips to linger in a way that made her stomach flutter.

“Dear Reddington Bear” the Princess breathed, enraptured with him. “I am so happy now that you are here. I confess I began the day quite fretfully.”

Reddington frowned. “What is it that bothers you, my Lizzie?”

She looked up at him with a sad smile. “Only that I wish I had heard from Papa or Frederick. I thought perhaps they might write for my birthday, but I’ve had nothing.”

“Ahh, try not to worry” Reddington said encouragingly. “The postal service from the Caribbean is in a shocking state – I’m sure they have written and you will receive their letters in a week or so. Now, dearest Lizzie, I have something to cheer you.”

He removed a velvet box from his jacket pocket and she received it excitedly, opening it to find an astonishingly beautiful pendant. It was an extraordinarily delicately formed oval carved with an intricate design depicting an English garden, the craftmanship exquisite and utterly unique.

“This is quite the most beautiful ornament I have ever seen!” she breathed.

Reddington smile affectionately. “It depicts the gardens of my country house, Brocket Hall. Leading a solitary life these past years I have come to appreciate the tranquillity they provide. The beauty. There I find I can unburden all my secrets. This piece too has a secret” he said, turning the pendant gently over in her hand. “If you look carefully, you will see a small depression in the top left. If you press… there! You’ll see it opens to reveal its own treasure.”

The Princess gasped as the back of the pendant slipped open to reveal a secret compartment, in which was concealed their likenesses overlaid with their initials intertwined.

“The jeweller is very discrete” Reddington said quietly. “No one will know this is there except you and I.”

“It is utterly exquisite” Princess Elizabeth whispered. “I shall treasure it. Thank you” she said, gazing up at him adoringly.

“What would you do with your special day, my Lizzie?” He rumbled affectionately. “Tell me how I might entertain you.”

She looked up at him then, her lower lip drawn uncertainly between her teeth. “I confess I have been much preoccupied with thoughts of the kiss that we shared.”

“As have I” he told her, his voice deepening a little.

“I think perhaps I should very much like you to kiss me again” she continued softly.

“I see” Reddington said in a low voice. “Then a kiss you shall have, for how can I refuse you anything?” he murmured, and bent down to capture her sweet mouth with his.

The flutter in her stomach returned fiercely, and she whimpered quietly when she felt his tongue ghost across her lower lip. Instinctively she opened her mouth a little, allowing him access, and she felt his passion build, his hand sliding gently into her ringleted hair and his breathing quickening.

He broke off the kiss then, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against hers, as though attempting a great deal of restraint.

“You feel it as I do” the Princess whispered tentatively. “The warmth inside?”

Reddington looked down at her then, his grey eyes darkened with passion. “And what would you know of that?” he murmured.

She looked up at him hesitantly, her heart thundering in her chest. “Enough to be quite distracted with a… need… a need that I cannot fulfil alone.”

Reddington let out a sharp breath, his nostrils flaring at the thought fulfilling the young Princess’s desires.

“Patience, my Lizzie” he answered, his voice low and rough. “When the time comes I shall take great pleasure in fulfilling your…needs.”

The sound of his deep voice made rough with desire and his promise to sate her needs made Princess Elizabeth feel weak, as though she might die if he did not make good on his promises that instant.

She took a deep breath and took his hand. “I would show you something, Lord Melbourne” she said quietly, leading him to the far wall of the room.

He watched, puzzled as she ran her fingers gently across the plaster ornamentation, until part of the wall sprung open, revealing a dark corridor behind. Wordlessly she led him inside and he followed her down the corridor, astounded that such a secret passage should exist, and unsure of her intentions.

“These secret corridors lie all over the palace” she whispered. “They are mainly there so that servants may respond quickly to calls without need of being seen in the main house, though they also provide security should any members of the family require it” she explained quietly.

She paused suddenly, her hand running along the wall again, until a door popped open, and Reddington found himself standing in a luxurious, darkened bed chamber that could only belong to the Princess Royal. He swallowed hard, and turned to her with all the strength he could muster.

“Elizabeth” he admonished with quiet firmness. “You are a naughty girl. We cannot lie together. We do not yet have the King’s blessing, nor is there any certainty that he will give it.”

“Then I find I am quite lost” the young Princess whispered. “For I have such a need that it threatens to consume me long before we are able to wed.”

Reddington huffed a breath at her words, his lip curling and his breeches growing uncomfortably tight at the thought of the young Princess’s desire for him driving her to distraction. She seemed to sense his wavering resolve, and slowly began to remove her dress, slipping the silk down her shoulders. He thrust his tongue against his bottom teeth as he watched her, and when she began to struggle with the fastenings on her bodice he approached her, taking her wrists and holding her still.

She fully expected him to admonish her for her wanton behaviour and compel her to fix her dress, but, to her surprise and gratification, he released her, and took up the task of undressing her himself. His hands moved deftly down the silk that bound her, undoing the fastenings and slowly removing her bodice and skirt until she stood in her corset and drawers.

He paused then, staring down at her, his rough breathing mirroring her own. He raised his hand to her face and slowly traced a finger down the planes of her face, before letting it rest under her chin.

“What an extraordinary beauty you are” he murmured. “Are you sure it is your true desire to become intimate with me, Elizabeth?” he said quietly. “For if you are not sure, we can go now to take tea in the gardens and be truly happy just to be in one another’s company.”

“I am so very sure” she whispered, gazing up at him, her blue eyes dark with desire.

“Very well. There cannot be a child – do you understand?”

She looked up at him uncertainly, and he smiled kindly. “We cannot have intercourse” he explained in a low voice. “But I believe I can give you some of the intimacy you seek nonetheless. Do you trust me?”

The young Princess nodded wordlessly, her heart thundering, too aroused and curious to think of asking him adjourn their activities to provide further explanation. Reddington smiled gently and returned his hand to her corset, which he removed slowly, reverently undoing lace by lace, till the stiff silk fell to the floor atop her dress and her breasts peaked out from over the top of her chemise. Taking a deep breath, he pulled the white cotton down, exposing her pert, rosy breasts to his gaze.

He groaned under his breath at the sight, and when he gently cupped one in his hand, she leaned forward, inviting him to feel her as freely as he desired. His breathing quickening, he began to massage her, and raised his other hand to gently stimulate the nipple of her other breast, causing her to gasp in surprise.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice low and full of concern for her.

“Yes!” she breathed. “It’s just that I have never felt anything quite like… _this_ ” she stuttered. “I can’t begin to explain…” she faltered.

Reddington smiled then, bringing his finger to her lips. “The mysteries of a woman’s body do not need to be explained, sweetheart. Only enjoyed.”

He bent and captured her mouth in a kiss then, and the gentle push of his tongue mirrored the brush of his thumb over her nipple until she mewled at the strange throbbing she felt building between her legs. Unconsciously she bucked into him, and he hummed in delight against her lips.

“Do you want more, my Lizzie?” he asked breathlessly. “Do you want me to take away that ache that you feel?”

“Yes, oh yes!” she murmured against his masculine cheek, unsure of what she was asking for, only certain that whatever it was, she needed it.

He led her slowly to the bed then, and paused when her legs hit the end. Keeping his dark grey eyes fixed on her face, he lowered his hand down between her breasts and over her stomach until his nimble fingers slid down her drawers and came to rest on the fine hair that lay there.

His eyes darkened as he lingered on the precipice of her most intimate place, and her breath stopped in her throat as she felt his hand begin to undulate, gently massaging the plump mound beneath her underthings. She felt a strange wetness come between her legs, and knew instinctively that he had caused it to be there. She moaned at the sensation and, with an encouraging smile, he pushed her gently to sit back in front of him atop the rough silken coverlet at the end of the bed.

Searching her eyes for any sign that she was regretting her decision and finding none, he allowed his fingers to slide lower, parting her feminine lips and groaning at the wetness he felt there, immensely gratified knowing it was he who had rendered her in such a state of arousal. She whimpered as she felt his fingers begin to slide back and forth between her legs, enraptured as a sweet pressure began to build inside her.

From her position seated on the end of the bed she could see the large bulge in his breeches clearly, and instinctively reached out to touch it. He hissed as she did so and, emboldened by the look of desire she saw in his eyes, she began to move her hand back and forth, mimicking his actions.

“Good _God_ ” he groaned, “what you do to me, sweet girl”.

Smiling up at him, she tentatively began to tug at his buttons, though she had little success, having not the first idea how to remove a gentleman’s garments. He paused his ministrations to come to her aid, and she gasped as his manhood was released, large and rigid, the dusky head leaking a little fluid.

Mistaking her gasp of exhilaration for fear he spoke quickly to reassure her.

“Please don’t be afraid, sweetheart. I have no intention of taking your virginity or of harming you in any way. If you’d like to stop-”

He broke off with a hiss as she wrapped her slender fingers around his swollen flesh, rubbing him tentatively in her need to explore.

“I rather think I should be most disappointed if you stopped now” she breathed, and he huffed a laugh that came out as more of a groan as she began tugging gently on his warm, velvety skin.

Soon his hand wrapped firmly around hers on his penis, stilling her. She looked up at him questioningly to see his eyes closed and his jaw tight.

“Did I injure you?” she asked, confused.

He shook his head and answered her in a strained tone. “No, sweet girl – I find I am somewhat lacking the self-control I wish to employ, and must crave your indulgence for a moment…”

She did not understand, and wondered briefly whether he meant he was in danger of reneging on his promise, and ravishing her there and then. The thought excited her, and the throbbing between her legs returned with a vengeance. She squirmed a little, rubbing her thighs together. He seemed to understand without her having to utter a word, and he gently tugged down her drawers, pushing her gently down to lie back on the bed.

Kneeling over her he caught her mouth in a kiss, and then murmured against her cheek. “I shall give you what you need, my Lizzie.”

His hand gripped his manhood, and she cried out in a very unladylike manner as he began to gently rub the fat tip between her legs, her wetness lubricating its journey back and forth over the tingling bundle of nerves that lay there. His eyes were dark and intense like an animal as he watched her be pleasured, though his touch remained gentle.

She felt a deep flush in her cheeks and the sweet ache that lingered in her began to unfurl quickly inside, spreading around her intimate parts, stomach and thighs and growing sweeter still until it burst like a thousand tiny diamonds. Her flesh began to pulse against him and she cried out in equal parts pleasure and alarm. He held her to him tightly, his lips pressed to her forehead, his breathing quick and rough.

“That’s it sweet girl, that’s it - good _grief-_ ”

She felt him groan against her then, his manhood thick and pulsing erratically, and a moment later a warm wetness coated her stomach as he found his own release.

She was still in something of a stupor as he removed his handkerchief from his pocket and neatly wiped her clean, smiling softly at her dazed expression. He gave the Princess her chemise and restored his own clothing before sitting next to her on the bed, drawing him to her and pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Are you quite well, my Lizzie?” he asked tenderly.

“I am more than well” she replied looking up at him in wonder, and he had to suppress an affectionate laugh at her beatific expression on having experienced her first orgasm.

“I find it difficult to believe that I am still a virgin” she said then, “for I feel quite as though I have given myself to you entirely, as though my pleasure were my soul tying itself to you.”

“And do you regret that?” he asked quietly.

“Oh no!” she exclaimed. “Quite the opposite. I only long for the day when we may lie together and I may say I am truly yours.”

Reddington smiled and kissed her forehead. “Patience, Lizzie. It will come. Now, we must return to the sitting room before the servants see that we are gone and suspect me of stealing you away.”

He retrieved her garments from the floor, and she looked at them uncertainly, her face reddening a little.

“In the absence of your lady’s maid, would you permit me to help you dress?” Reddington said as though reading her mind, his eyes sparkling with humour.

The Princess nodded gratefully. “I wish you would, for I can hardly ask Martha’s assistance!”

“Indeed not” Reddington agreed with a small smile.

He indicated to her to face away from him, and the young Princess turned tentatively, gripping the bed post while Reddington pulled the laces of her corset, his approach simultaneously more powerful and more gentle than Martha’s ever was. She closed her eyes with a soft hum as she felt his hands hold her flank, his thumb brushing sensually over the silk that bound her. It struck her that, despite what had already transpired between them, to feel him slowly bind those secret places he had explored was one of the most erotic experiences of her life.

“Not too tight?” he queried softly, his hands resting on her slender shoulders as he finished.

“It’s perfect” she whispered shyly, turning to face him.

He smiled down at her affectionately, brushing an errant strand of hair and tucking it behind her ear.

“Come now, my Lizzie. Let’s get you properly attired and back into polite society before I am tempted to keep you here forever like a princess in a tower.”

She smiled beautifully at him then, her lip drawn sweetly between her teeth. “I wish you would, dearest Reddington Bear. I wish you would.”


	8. A Great Change

It was just before first light and Reddington was still asleep in his bed at Brocket Hall when he was roused by a loud banging on the front door. Lighting a candle, he went downstairs in his nightshirt and robe, followed by a sleepy footman who had also been awakened by the banging, and was similarly attired. When he opened the door he saw a dishevelled-looking liveried servant who wordlessly handed him a letter, which, like its bearer, looked crumpled and well-travelled.

Reddington was about to admonish the servant for his unreasonably early call and dishevelled appearance when he noticed that the man wore a black armband, creased and frayed, but definitely visible against the maroon of his uniform. It was both a mark of respect and a warning, a gentle sign indicating that the wearer bore bad news. Someone had died, Reddington thought numbly, though who on earth it could be escaped him; he had already lost his dear wife and daughter and had no other relatives that would merit this early awakening.

He accepted the letter in silence, tearing open the seal unceremoniously and holding up the candle so that he could better read the contents. A moment later both the letter and the candle fell to the floor from his unresisting hands, its flame snuffing out as the grey dawn cracked over the horizon.

* * *

That morning Princess Elizabeth was in her dressing room, her lady’s maid arranging her hair, while she looked at herself thoughtfully in the mirror. She could not now regard the curve of her breast or the buttons on her bodice without thinking of Lord Melbourne, and the marvellous way his strong hands had touched her body. She blushed at the memory, her heart racing with girlish joy at the thought that she would be his wife, that she would bare herself to him and he would touch her like that every night.

Excitedly, she began to imagine their wedding night, the fine gown she would wear and how tenderly he might remove it. Layer by layer they would expose themselves to one another and join together as husband and wife; he would penetrate her at last, taking her virginity and making her entirely his, and she would accept his caresses joyfully.

She was still daydreaming happily when there was a knock on the chamber door, startling her from her tender imaginings. Her maid answered and after conferring with the footman who had sought the young Princess, returned and delivered his message.

“The Prime Minister is seeking an urgent audience with you, ma’am.”

Princess Elizabeth received this news with a breathless smile, her pulse thrumming at the thought that he too could not bear to be away from her. Perhaps he simply wanted the pleasure of her company, or perhaps he sought a repeat of such private and intimate acts they had undertaken so recently, she thought excitedly.

“By all means, please reply that I should be happy to receive him as soon as he can visit the Palace” she instructed.

“Forgive me ma’am, but I understand he is already here and waiting on you in your sitting room” her maid told her.

The Princess’s eyes widened in dismay. “He is _here_ , and at this early hour? But I am not yet ready to receive him! I am in such disarray” she said fretfully, her heart thundering at being caught off-guard.

“Don’t worry ma’am” her maid said with a kind smile. “You’re almost done – I’ll just pin up your hair and you’ll be quite presentable.”

“Thank you, Martha” the young Princess said, smiling gratefully. “What would I do without you?”

As she made her way downstairs to the sitting room, a small thought began to plague her; it was most unlike Lord Melbourne to wait upon her or any in the Palace without writing for permission first, even smitten with love as he was. Something, indeed, must be amiss.

* * *

When she entered the sitting room where the Prime Minister was waiting, he was standing by the window, his posture stiff and agitated, his suit all of black. He turned as she entered, staring at her for a long moment before bowing, his expression grave.

“Lord Melbourne, when I heard your great hurry I grew concerned that something was wrong. Now that I see you, I feel sure that it is. Tell me” she said nervously.

Reddington swallowed, his grey eyes full of sorrow, and he was compelled to take a moment to steady his voice before he began his terrible speech.

“It is my solemn... and _painful_ duty to inform you that your father, King Alexander, has passed away while on his royal tour of the Caribbean Territories. Further… I deeply regret to say that the same illness that claimed him, also claimed the life of your brother, Prince Frederick. May God rest their souls.”

He watched the impact of his words, and thought that he would rather have stabbed himself a thousand times over than to have been the cause of such shock and pain as he saw in her beautiful eyes.

“There are no words to express how _deeply_ sorry I am” he said softly, shaking his head, his eyes creased with pain and regret.

She stood there silently, her delicate form so rigid that it seemed as though a simple gust of wind would be enough to carry her away.

“Will you sit down for your comfort-” he began, gesturing to a chaise.

“When?” she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself as though holding herself up.

“These sixteen days past” he said gently. “The letter I’ve had is from the head of the royal household overseas and took some time in reaching our shores. By his account, a virulent tropical fever spread through the town and all its dwellings, sparing few.”

She seemed to sway a little on her feet and he longed wretchedly to embrace her.

“Won’t you sit down, please” he implored. “Or allow me to fetch something for your relief. Some brandy, or wine perhaps.”

She shook her head tightly, bravely swallowing her tears.

“No. I must go to my uncle immediately and pay my respects” she said, her eyes wide and hands trembling violently. “I assume he has been informed.”

Reddington frowned. “Your uncle…” he repeated in confusion.

“He is King” she whispered, biting back sobs. “Whatever I might think of him, I must do my duty and offer him my allegiance and support at this time.” 

Then it dawned on him as he listened to her. The poor girl was in shock and had not yet grasped the enormity of the situation. She did not understand that she had lost even more than she thought, and gained something unimaginable.

“No, Elizabeth” he said gently, taking a step towards her, and she stopped, looking up at him tearfully.

“You remember your lesson with me. The changes to the Act of Succession. Your father’s great matter” he continued softly. “If a monarch dies leaving only a daughter…”

When he was sure he had her attention he did the only thing he could think of to help her understand, though it broke his heart to do it. Never taking his eyes from her, he knelt down in front of her, looking up with both admiration and heartbreak in his gaze.

“The King is dead” he said heavily. “Long live Queen Elizabeth.”

She froze then, staring at him, her eyes glittering with horror and her chest heaving.

“Get up” she whispered eventually. “Get up!”

He obeyed her immediately and rose to his feet, his head bowed. “Your Majesty” he said softly, the words falling like stone on her heart.

They stood in silence for what seemed like an age, and Reddington waited patiently and solemnly while the new Queen paced back and forth, her small hands balled into tight little fists. Eventually she came to a stop in front of him, and he looked gently down at her pale face, his eyes creased with sadness.

“It cannot be true. It cannot be me!” she breathed, trembling.

“It is true, ma’am” he said softly. “You are Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland.”

She looked up at him, her deep blue eyes shining. “Tell me it isn’t so” she whispered, taking his hands in hers.

“God forgive me, I wish it wasn’t” he said quietly, unable to keep the sadness from his voice, or the longing from his eyes.

She stared at him in dismay and she dropped his hands. “You think I am not qualified?”

Reddington looked at her with conviction. “I know, without a _shadow_ of a doubt, that you will be an _extraordinary_ Queen” he said with quiet fierceness.

“Then what?” she asked, shaking her head in confusion. “You do not wish to be the husband of the Queen?... You _cannot_ be the husband of the Queen” she murmured then, her eyes widening and hands beginning to shake. “We cannot be together. That’s what you mean, isn’t it?” she choked as realisation dawned. “A monarch cannot marry a current or former member of parliament?”

He did not answer her, and she shook her head in despair.

“My dear Papa and brother are gone! Do you now mean to tell me that I am also to be cruelly separated from the man I love?”

“That is a question for another time” he said gently, though he knew the pain in his eyes would give him away. A monarch could not marry a current or former member of parliament, especially a Prime Minister, and especially one who had previously been married.

“Then… I am lost” she murmured faintly.

After having stood for an admirable period she finally faltered, succumbing to the shock that he had feared would come over her on receiving the bleak news. He strode quickly to her side, putting a firm hand at her back to prevent her from falling.

She looked up at him, her blue eyes wide and desolate. “I find… I don’t know what to do” she whispered then, sounding quite lost, and at that moment he saw in her the little girl he had cherished so dearly.

“Then let me tell you” he said tenderly, helping her to sit down on a chaise. “You will rest, and allow me to do all that has to be done. I will inform your family and household, and following that I will make a statement to the nation as Prime Minister. I will visit with you tomorrow to make the necessary arrangements moving forward. But for now… rest. I will ring for your maid and she will attend to you” he finished, tugging the bell.

The new Queen nodded numbly. “Then that is how we shall proceed. I thank you for your kindness, Lord Melbourne. It is greatly appreciated” she said, sounding every bit like the genteel queen she now was.

“I wish it could be you” she added distantly. “I wish you could attend to me. Comfort me. I truly think I need you now more than I ever have, and yet you are further from me than you have ever been.”

Reddington swallowed and nodded silently. He could not now say it because he could not speak to a queen in such a familiar way, but he too so dearly wished that he could comfort her properly, kiss her and hold her as she wept. It broke his heart not to embrace her, to know that he could never do so again. For even as he looked at her and saw the child she once was, he also saw a woman who had become more than their great love, more than anyone could comprehend.

“Your Majesty” he said with a bow, and walked slowly backwards away from her as he would now have to do every time he left her company; she was Queen and he was not permitted to turn his back on her.

When he shut the door behind him, he closed his eyes heavily, unsuccessfully trying to erase the painful image of his Queen’s grief. He was relieved to see her lady’s maid approaching and received her with as warm a smile as he could muster.

“Martha, isn’t it?” he enquired gently.

“Yes sir.”

“Listen to me carefully” he said in a low voice. “Your mistress has great need of you. This day she has become Queen under the most tragic of circumstances.”

The maid gasped, her eyes filling with tears of shock and grief.

“I know you to be a kind girl” Reddington continued gently. “She will need your support. Start with fetching some brandy to calm her, and find her a black dress.”

“But sir!” the maid said helplessly. “I am lady’s maid to a princess not a queen, I am not of high enough station, I am not prepared…”

Reddington smiled sadly. “Then you understand exactly how our new Queen feels at this moment. The Queen may arrange her household as she pleases in the months to come, but for now you must serve her as best you can. I know you will keep her well, for her sake… and mine” he added quietly.

The maid curtseyed solemnly and went to attend her Queen, while Reddington left with a heavy heart to inform the Queen’s uncle, the parliament and the country of the great change that had befallen them.


	9. Love and Duty

When Reddington entered the new Queen’s sitting room the next day he was very anxious to see how she’d fared the night. Her complexion remained pale, made more stark by the black silk of mourning in which she was dressed. Despite that, he was pleased to see that her sapphire eyes were not dull, but full of courage.

“Your Majesty” he said with a bow.

“Lord Melbourne” she greeted him. “I am glad to see you. Please sit down.”

Reddington cleared his throat. “Ma’am…a Prime Minister may not sit in the presence of the monarch during the Audience” he explained gently.

She raised her eyebrows, the sorrow and desolation of the situation straining her features, however hard she attempted to maintain the formality her station required. She had not been raised for this, he thought sadly. There was so much she didn’t know, including the formalities that dictated his relationship to her as her Prime Minister. He was bound by law to do her bidding in so far as it was constitutional. He could not turn his back on her, nor sit in her presence on any formal occasion. They could never be equals.

“In that case please tell me what has occurred since our meeting yesterday” she said tightly. “Has my uncle been informed?”

“He has, Your Majesty. Your uncle and his family have been fully appraised of the situation, the formalities have been put to the Commons and Lords, and I have made a brief statement for the consumption of the public.”

The young Queen nodded, drawing her lip uncertainly between her teeth, a shy gesture Reddington recognised from her childhood. “I understand then, that there is no contest to the succession” she asked quietly. “It is quite certain?”

“It is, ma’am” he answered gently. “The Act of Succession instigated by your father was debated and passed into law. There is no question that you are his rightful heir. You are the true Queen.”

“I see. How did my uncle Cumberland take the news of his brother and nephew’s passing?”

Reddington’s lip twitched. “He did not receive the news well, ma’am.”

“I imagine he did not. Though I daresay he was on closer terms with the throne than he was my dear Papa” the young Queen said wryly, and Reddington was relieved to see her wit had not left her.

“On that point, Your Majesty should know that, while the law is not on his side, your uncle will not watch the throne slip through his fingers without so much as an attempt to grasp for it… He must be watched carefully as he will seek to use your tender years against you – that and the fact that you are a woman.”

“How might he do that?” she asked in dismay.

“I suspect he will try to argue that your youth and gender make you unfit to rule and therefore in need of a regent – someone to act on your behalf. Naturally as your uncle and onetime heir to the throne he would be the obvious candidate for such a role. Ma’am, please heed me when I say you _must resist_ any such attempt. You can do this” Reddington said with quiet conviction.

“I am dearly tempted to abandon the godforsaken throne and let him have it!” Queen Elizabeth said heatedly, her temper flaring under her refined exterior. 

Reddington didn’t answer, his eyes cast downward. He wanted nothing more than to fall at her feet, to beg her to give up the throne, to be an ordinary woman he could love and cherish in his arms. But the woman he knew so well, young though she was, would serve her country with all the courage and wisdom she could muster, of that he was certain.

“I cannot abdicate” she continued desolately. “My uncle is a vain and callous man, and his son the wretched Prince George is worse. I cannot leave my country – my dear Papa’s legacy – to ruin in the hands of those who care nothing for its people.”

“I know” Reddington said gently, his heart swelling with pride even as it broke. “I know.”

She turned to him then, her eyes glimmering with hope. “I would serve them so much better with you at my side, dear Reddington Bear” she whispered.

Reddington swallowed. “I should be honoured to serve as your private secretary until a more permanent arrangement can be made, ma’am.”

The young Queen raised her eyebrows, pained by his response. “My _private secretary_? I would have you as my husband! Tell me there is some hope. Tell me there is a way we can be together, some act of parliament, some archaic rule that would permit it!”

Reddington closed his eyes momentarily, tormented by the continued pain he must cause her. “It is not possible, Your Majesty. For a monarch to marry a current or former member of parliament – nay, a Prime Minister – would go against the very fabric of the constitution. The monarch must remain entirely separate from the world of politics. It could destroy both monarchy and government.”

“What if-” she began.

“We _cannot_ marry” Reddington interjected, his voice strained. “If Your Majesty wishes to-”

“ _Stop_ ” the young Queen whispered fiercely, her eyes filling with tears. “You call me ‘Your Majesty’, you do not even sit in my presence, you walk backwards away from me with your head bowed like a servant! Am I not flesh and blood still? Have your feelings changed? Do you no longer love me?” she asked, desperately searching his eyes.

He did not answer her, only stared, his grey eyes full of longing and sorrow.

Queen Elizabeth canted her head, her chin crumpling. “I may be Queen, and you may be my subject, but I am still your Lizzie. I am still the girl who loves you with her whole heart!” she choked.

Reddington paused to collect himself, his lower lip trembling with emotion.

“Elizabeth… You are and _always_ will be the guiding light of my life. The vessel in which all my hopes and dreams inhere. But you now carry not just my hopes, but those of every living British subject in this _world_. You are ruler of the British Empire, second only to God. We have been given new purposes, you and I. You are destined to serve your people… And I am destined to serve you. I once thought I had nothing left to live for… Through you I have been given a reason to continue. And that must be enough.”

The young Queen stared at him as he spoke, and when he had finished she stood perfectly still, her blue eyes wide and shining.

“Papa always said the crown was the greatest burden one could carry” she whispered. “I think now I understand.”

* * *

Queen Elizabeth’s first court as monarch was a crowded affair, with many members of the British nobility in attendance to offer her their condolences and allegiance. As she entered the room, the crowd parted for her, bowing and curtseying solemnly as she passed. As Reddington watched her, he observed that although she was not of a very great height and her slender frame was made more fragile by grief, she nonetheless commanded a great presence in the room.

She wore a black silk dress trimmed with sombre white lace, but though she dressed for mourning her departed father and brother, Reddington could not help but marvel that her beauty shone as brightly as ever, her pale skin and delicately rosy complexion made all the more startling by the black. The hush that came through the crowd as she entered was almost audible, and he knew that, like him, many who were seeing her for the first time since her childhood were astonished at the unutterably beautiful young woman she had become. 

She sat genteelly on the throne in the large, bright hall, and Reddington noted with a pang of affection that her little feet did not quite reach the floor, necessitating a footman to hastily bring a small footstool for her comfort. After she was settled, she began to receive her guests, each announced to her and coming up to kiss her hand. Her uncle the Duke of Cumberland appeared extremely red-faced, his bow almost so brief as to be an affront.

“My condolences on the great loss we share, Uncle” the new Queen said solemnly.

“I daresay it is a loss that has benefitted you most unexpectedly, Niece.”

Queen Elizabeth stiffened at his crass comment. “My father taught us that the crown is a duty, not a benefit.”

The Duke smiled insincerely. “Naturally there are many important aspects of being the sovereign that the King would have felt it necessary to impart to your dear brother Frederick, but not so to you, I think, having not ever imagined that you would inherit. I fear, young and ill-prepared as you are, you may find the task is beyond you without proper guidance from a qualified person.”

“And would that qualified person be yourself, Uncle?” the young Queen asked icily.

“Well I daresay I am the most qualified” the Duke said pompously, “and as your uncle I should be very happy to act as regent until such time that you are better able to shoulder the burden.”

His comment sent a ripple of murmurs through the crowd, and the young Queen was grateful when Reddington stepped forward with a polite smile.

“I am sure Her Majesty is most grateful for the offer of support, Your Royal Highness, but I can confirm that there are no plans for a regency. Her Majesty is more than prepared.”

“And you should know, Lord Melbourne” the Duke of Wellington chimed in drily. “In my capacity as leader of the opposition I must say I find it most troubling that you should have been tutor to the Queen. What assurances do we have that Her Majesty has not been schooled to favour your party?”

“You have my assurance as your _sovereign_ , Duke” the young Queen said sharply.

“Indeed, ma’am” the Duke said sagely, “but have you really considered whether you are able perform such a challenging role? It may be best for you to seek guidance in the form of a regent.”

Queen Elizabeth drew herself up then, looking down on the group in front of her with all the authority she could muster.

“Let me take this opportunity to tell you all. I may be a young woman… but I am my father’s daughter. I stand ready for the great responsibility which lies before me. And I call upon you all to do your duty, as I shall do mine.”

An appreciative murmur went through the crowd and a smattering of applause for her regal statement. The Duke of Wellington himself seemed impressed enough, bowing his head and stating: “God save the Queen.”

“You have my permission to withdraw” she told the assembled group graciously, and they began to file out of the room chattering and speculating about the new young Queen.

“Lord Melbourne, you will remain” she said then and Reddington bowed his head, waiting in silence until the room had emptied.

When they were alone the young Queen smiled broadly at him, letting out an exhilarated breath. “Oh Reddington Bear, my heart is beating fit to burst! I have survived the lions’ den” she said triumphantly, jumping up animatedly from the throne and running down to hug him. “Did you see my uncle’s face? And the Duke of Wellington’s?” she exclaimed breathlessly.

“You were magnificent, ma’am” Reddington said with a gentle smile, though he made no move to return her embrace.

The young Queen looked a little crestfallen at his inhibition, staring up at him with her girlish blue eyes. “Will you not embrace me?” she asked hopefully. “Nay, will you not _kiss_ me? I want so much to celebrate with you!”

Reddington sighed with regret, loathe to disappoint her in her moment of triumph. In a heartbeat she had gone from being a regal and commanding queen to the sweet, impulsive girl he had fallen in love with, her manner disinhibited and joyous. It was with great difficulty that he had to remind himself that however she behaved, however she felt towards him, she would never be just that girl to him again – she was the Queen of England.

He cleared his throat quietly. “Ma’am, you know that I cannot” he told her gently. “I may kiss your hand when presented to you at court, but otherwise I may not touch your person.”

Her chin crumpled in disappointment and she stepped back, her cheeks burning with embarrassment and frustration. “So this is how it is to be” she said tightly. “Not only can we not marry, but we are to be strangers to one another?”

“Not strangers, ma’am” he said, pained. “I will be honoured to serve you in every capacity possible within the bounds of propriety. But I must uphold my duty to the crown and my country. You have been elevated so far beyond me - beyond any other man or woman. I can only hope to serve you to the utmost of my ability and integrity.” 

She stared at him, her deep blue eyes glittering. “My uncle seems convinced that being the monarch is a great benefit. It seems to me that there is little benefit at all if I cannot have the one thing I desire in the world.”

With that she left the room and Reddington could only bow to her as she departed, his heart aching to kiss her and with the knowledge that he could never do so again.


	10. The Little Girl in the Crown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been playing around with photoshop to give you all a little aide-imagination!

In the days that followed, Queen Elizabeth began to slowly adjust to her new role, though the fame that went with it was quite extraordinary to her. She could hardly open a newspaper without seeing her own likeness, along with commentary ranging from fawning appreciation of her outfits and beauty, to speculation regarding her relationship with Lord Melbourne. There was much discussion of the fact that he was once her tutor, something which some publications admired, and others condemned for reasons including constitutional impropriety and a suggestion that it was immoral for her to have been alone with him.

Having spent her childhood largely ignored or bossed about by members of the royal household, she now took pleasure in the reverence and courtesy that being Queen afforded her. Where she had previously merited only a grudging bow or curtsy, she could not now walk the corridors without all conversation and activity coming to a stop in order for the palace occupants to pay their respects as she passed.

If she wanted to eat chocolate truffles, there was no mean-spirited aunt to tell her she could not. If she did not want to listen to a boring poetry reading, she could decline to attend, and if she wanted to run in the hallway or read salacious novels, no one could admonish her.

She also received a large number of extravagant gifts from royal families around the world, all paying their respects to her. She had a glittering ruby and diamond tiara from the Tsar of Russia, a solid gold casket filled with fine silk cloth from the King of France, and an extraordinary set of enormous gold, emerald and sapphire peacock feather fans from the Emperor of India. However, her favourite gift by far was an exotic Saluki puppy named Safi gifted by the Sultan of Muscat, its elegant, energetic form and silky ears making it a delightful pet.

One morning, on finding she had some time to pass before she received the Prime Minister and the other members of the Privy Council, she decided to take her new puppy into the garden to play. She was grateful for the opportunity to relieve some of the sadness that she had been feeling, and delighted in running about the garden as she had when she was a child. She ran and laughed and was utterly unconcerned when she slipped and fell, covering her petticoats in mud.

She was having so much fun chasing after her dog that she lost track of time, and was surprised to see Lord Melbourne appear on the terrace. Excited to see him, she ran over to him accompanied by her barking puppy, her hair quite undone and her dress muddy.

“Oh Reddington Bear, look!” she exclaimed, gesturing to her dog. “She was a gift from the Sultan of Muscat, isn’t she wonderful? Her name is Safi. It means ‘friend’ – isn’t that precious?”

“A fine gift, Your Majesty” Reddington replied, clearing his throat. “Your Majesty, if I may, I am accompanied by the members of the Privy Council, as agreed” he said, a low note of warning in his voice.

The young Queen looked behind him down the terrace and sure enough, to her utter horror, the Duke of Wellington and the other gentlemen of the Privy Council were standing there, looking askance at her dishevelled appearance.

“Oh dear God” she breathed, her skin turning hot with miserable embarrassment. “What have I done? What will they think of me? To see me like this…” she choked, tears coming to her eyes.

“Take a moment” Reddington said gently. “Do not let them intimidate you. Remember, Elizabeth - _you_ are Queen, and they are your subjects” he murmured.

She nodded gratefully and quickly smoothed her hair and brushed off her skirt. Composing herself as best she could, she walked to them, accompanied by the Prime Minister, and addressed them as regally as she could manage.

“Gentlemen, welcome. You have found me engaging in some much needed exercise. If you would please move to the Yellow Drawing Room I should be happy to receive you there momentarily.”

Reddington nodded encouragingly at her and the men did as she bade, though she could detect murmurs of disapproval rippling among them.

Once she had tidied herself, she conducted the meeting with as much dignity as she could muster, though each time her eyes met those of one or other of the gentlemen there it seemed to her that she was viewed with either cold disapproval, or curiosity bordering on lechery. She wondered if they thought her simple, or only an object to be desired – a figurehead of the monarchy and nothing more. Her discomfort worsened when the Duke of Wellington raised an unwelcome item of business for discussion.

“Your Majesty, I wonder if you have given any thought to the prospect of marriage.”

“Marriage, Duke?” she enquired with a frown. “Whose marriage?”

“ _Yours_ , ma’am” the Duke replied, clearing his throat.

His words fell on her like a stone, and she was sure that her face reddened appallingly as she thought of Lord Melbourne and all that she must conceal. She resisted the urge to look at the Prime Minister, though she was sure that she could feel the tension radiating from him.

“I see. I assure you that I have no plans to marry at present. Indeed, I am not convinced that I shall _ever_ marry” she added boldly. “Elizabeth the First did perfectly well without a husband, after all.”

A disapproving murmur bubbled around the table, and the young Queen felt herself grow hot with anxiety.

“Ma’am, I must inform you-” the Duke began with a frown, when Reddington cut in.

“With the utmost respect to the honourable gentleman, this item was not on the agenda for today, and does not meet the criteria for additional business. I suggest we postpone this discussion until it might be properly tabled.”

The Duke pursed his lips disapprovingly, but nodded his assent. “As you wish, Prime Minister” he said drily.

The young Queen was grateful when the meeting eventually came to a close and she was able to retreat, returning gratefully to her apartments where she was able to enjoy the company of her beloved dog.

After she had departed, the Duke of Wellington sighed and gave Reddington a sober look.

“Melbourne. It is unfortunate that during your long association with the Royal Family you were not able to improve the Queen’s behaviour. Her deportment on this occasion left something to be desired.”

Reddington raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Indeed? I thought Her Majesty conducted the first meeting of the Privy Council flawlessly.”

“I suppose – if one can call rejecting out of hand the question of marriage flawless” the Duke said, shaking his head. “Though I speak of her behaviour upon our arrival. She was positively wild.”

Reddington’s lip twitched unhappily. “You are too hard on her, Duke. She has undergone a great strain and borne a terrible loss. If she can take some comfort in fresh air and exercise then it is all to the good. Besides, she is so young – why should she not run and roam freely about the palace? She should not be held to the same expectations as the more… _venerable_ members of court.”

“Young…” the Duke repeated. “She is a child. A little girl who, I fear, has but small understanding of the world. For her sake and for the sake of us all, I hope she grows up quickly.”

“I believe she will surprise you” Reddington said quietly. He turned to him then, his expression full of regret. “Do not wish away her innocence so fast… You may find that it is her purity of soul that will be the making of us all.”

The Duke twitched a smile. “That may be. But the question of marriage will not disappear because she wishes it gone, Lord Melbourne. There will come a time soon when the House will require it of her. You know as well as I that she has a constitutional duty to marry and produce an heir. You should prepare her.”

Reddington nodded tightly, the prospect of her marrying gnawing cruelly at his heart. The young Queen had shouldered so much already, he could not bear to be the one to tell her that she would soon be compelled to marry another. Though it went against his professional judgement, he resolved to shield her from it at least for now, in the hope that she might gain strength to better cope with the news.

* * *

On Reddington’s next meeting with the young Queen he entered her sitting room to find her quite distressed, pacing the floor, her small hands balled in anxiety.

“Oh Lord Melbourne” she greeted him. “Thank goodness you are here.”

“Your Majesty, are you unwell?” he asked, concerned. “Is there anything I can fetch for your relief, anything at all?”

“No, thank you. I am not unwell, though I believe our legal system may be sick beyond redemption” she said with feeling.

“Ma’am?”

The young Queen finally ceased pacing and came to a pause in front of him.

“Lord Melbourne, I have heard a rumour in the palace that that twenty men are to be executed in my name. Not only executed, but dispatched in the most barbaric way!”

Reddington nodded with a sigh. “Yes, ma’am. An uprising of Chartist rebels was recently quashed and the leaders have been sentenced to death.”

“Chartist?”

“Those who seek changes to the constitution to give more power to the common man - voting rights to working men, among other things. They are called Chartists because of the charter which outlines their demands.”

The Queen paled, her small hands shaking with rage. “Do you mean to tell me that people whose only crime is to question the current state of our constitution will be killed for it? You know too well that I myself have spent many days wishing the constitution would all but evaporate! Do I understand correctly that these poor souls are to be hanged, drawn and quartered?”

“That is the sentence for treason, ma’am” Reddington told her soberly.

“Well it’s not civilised, do you hear me?” she said heatedly. “Such things may have been necessary in the past, but I’d say things have changed somewhat.”

“I quite agree, Your Majesty” Reddington told her gently. “Indeed, I have campaigned long for that particular form of capital punishment to be stricken from our books, though enough members of parliament feel that it is a necessary deterrent for me to have regrettably failed in my efforts thus far.”

“Oh Lord Melbourne, I should have known you would not have tolerated such barbarity” the young Queen said, calming a little. “I know you to be a kind and compassionate man” she added with a soft smile.

Reddington nodded in acknowledgement of the compliment.

“Ma’am, you surmise correctly that the punishment for treason is a relic from times past, where it was thought necessary in order to deter usurpers and ensure the safety of the government and the monarch. While things are a little more secure today, I should also remind Your Majesty that your reign is young… and so are you. Any intervention would need to be carefully managed.”

The young Queen’s eyes widened. “Intervention? I was not aware that I was in a position to interfere with a sentence passed by law.”

Reddington smiled gently. “You are indeed, ma’am. While you cannot overturn a conviction, you may commute a sentence if you see fit. If you wish to spare their lives, you may have them sent to the colonies to live out their days.”

“Then that is what I shall do” she said firmly.

“I shall gladly make the necessary arrangements, ma’am. Though I should warn you that your uncle and any detractors will seize on this as evidence of weakness.”

The Queen paused thoughtfully before answering, her expression firm and eyes sparkling.

“Then I might say to him, and any other critics there may be, that I believe the real testament to strength is the ability to show mercy. I want my reign to be a merciful one, Lord Melbourne. If I am to be forced to give up the life I so desired to serve my country, then I must serve it as best I can” she added quietly.

Reddington swallowed, pained by the allusion she’d made to the life they would not now share, and full of pride for her fortitude.

“I have no doubt that it will be, ma’am. Your father would have been extremely proud of you.”

“Thank you” she said softly. “That is kind. Lord Melbourne, you previously offered to serve as my private secretary, an offer I regret to say I rebuffed in anger. Does it still stand?”

“Of course, Your Majesty” Reddington said gently. “I should be honoured to serve you. I want nothing more than to be useful to you, ma’am.”

The young Queen looked at him then, her eyes shining softly. “If indeed you want nothing more than that, then I am happy for you, Lord Melbourne. For I want so much more, and will therefore never be content” she said sadly. “Nevertheless, please know that I am grateful for your assistance and wise council. I am in great need of it.”

Reddington nodded sympathetically. “I will do everything in my power to assist you now and always, though be advised that my official role as Private Secretary would need to be a temporary arrangement in place while you familiarise yourself with your new role. As you are aware, you cannot be seen to favour a representative of one political party above another.”

“Yes” the young Queen said heavily. “I am well aware. The Duke of Wellington and the other members of the Privy Council have already made it perfectly clear what they think of me. The shame I felt then… No one has ever looked at me that way before. How can I go on knowing that they do not respect me? Knowing that all they see is a little girl playing at being a Queen, who runs in the garden and has muddy petticoats.”

Reddington looked at her thoughtfully, his eyes shining with affection in a way that made her insides ache.

“The ones who think they know you... They really don't know anything about you at all. They see a crown… a girl… I'm not saying it's easy to ignore the way people look at you. But I hope you can find some solace in the fact that when I look at you... I see a guiding star. A light who brings hope, not just to me… but to every soul in this nation.”

The young Queen smiled sadly at him, her heart at once gladdened by his words, and aching to know that this man who held such admiration for her, who loved her so completely, could never be hers.


	11. To Love Another

When Reddington next visited the young Queen it was with a heavy heart, for he had several items of most disagreeable business to discuss. Not only had the newspapers reacted in an inflammatory fashion to his appointment as Private Secretary, but the Duke of Wellington had raised a question in the House of Commons requiring him to remind the Queen of her constitutional duty to marry. Though it pained him deeply, Reddington could no longer postpone the conversation and it settled on him like a sickness in his heart, a sickness he would be compelled to pass to his beloved Queen.

As he entered her sitting room he was pleased to see that she looked exceedingly well. Her dress was of sky blue silk with delicate cream lace adorning the neckline and puffed sleeves, the colour quite lovely against her dark curls and alabaster skin. 

“Good morning, Lord Melbourne” she greeted him with a smile.

“Your Majesty” Reddington said softly, bowing respectfully.

“What have you for me today? I must confess I am already quite overcome with paperwork” she told him sheepishly.

“I should be most happy to assist with your papers, ma’am” he said gently. Though there are certain matters that we must discuss first.”

“Thank you, Prime Minister” the young Queen said genteelly. “Please continue.”

Reddington paused, working his jaw. “Ma’am, I wonder if you have had a chance to read the morning newspapers” he began hesitantly.

“I’m afraid not - I’ve barely stopped for breakfast this morning” the young Queen said, looking up at him questioningly. “Is there anything I should be aware of?”

“There is, Your Majesty” Reddington said uncomfortably, clearing his throat. “I’m afraid to say that the decision to appoint me as your private secretary has been picked up by the newspapers, and has not been particularly well received.”

The Queen frowned. “How so?”

Reddington’s lip twitched. “Although the arrangement was to be temporary, it is still felt by the Duke of Wellington and those newspapers that are loyal to him that it is inappropriate for you to favour a representative of one party over another.”

“I’ve heard that tune before” the Queen said with a sigh. “They can say what they wish. They will not tell me who I may appoint as my private secretary. They must know that there is no impropriety.”

Reddington swallowed. “Ma’am, though it pains me to do so, I do advise that you examine the newspapers in question” he said, handing her two copies.

She accepted them wordlessly and began to look through them. The first was a broadsheet which featured the headline _‘Secretary role provokes constitutional crisis’,_ and was accompanied by a satirical sketch which depicted the Prime Minister in renaissance garb, laying down his cloak for the Queen to walk over, the cloak bearing the legend ‘British Constitution’.

“Oh for heaven’s sake” the Queen said, irritated. “How utterly tiresome.”

“The second paper is a less reputable news source ma’am, popular among the less educated classes. However, on this occasion I felt it prudent to make you aware of its contents” Reddington said tightly.

The Queen opened the newspaper in question and was confronted with another satirical sketch, this time a truly salacious drawing depicting her as a hand puppet, with the Prime Minister as her puppet master, his hand disappearing up her skirts.

“Oh my” she exclaimed breathlessly, a deep flush creeping over her bosom and into her cheeks. “I can see why you felt I should be made aware, Lord Melbourne” she said, not meeting his eye.

“Indeed, ma’am” Reddington said drily. “The Duke of Wellington has already demanded that I give up the role of Private Secretary, and I think he may be right. My offer was made with the best of intentions, but I fear my judgement may have been clouded by a personal desire to be of assistance to you. I shall provide a list of suitable candidates to Your Majesty as soon as possible.”

“I think not” the Queen said firmly, her blue eyes now fixing him with a stern gaze. “I will not be dictated to by the Duke of Wellington. Please inform him, and any other interested party, that I feel it is quite appropriate for the Prime Minister to handle my affairs for the time being, and I do not appreciate attempts to meddle in my personal business.”

Reddington frowned. “Your Majesty” he began delicately, “perhaps you are not aware of the full implication of the sketch. It implies a relationship of an… _intimate_ nature between us. Which, coupled with the speculation that has already appeared in some gossip columns in months past, is something you would surely want to deter. It is not forgotten that I was once your tutor, nor that we shared a dance that garnered some speculation.”

“Of course I am aware of the implication” she answered crisply. “I would have thought you’d be perfectly aware that I am not so naïve” she added pointedly. “I will not bow to every demand made of me, Prime Minister. I am Queen, after all” she finished primly.

Reddington nodded, feeling a mixture of pride and concern. She was strong-willed as ever, though he feared her temperament might be the cause of her undoing.

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

He paused then, and the Queen regarded him with a frown.

“Is there something else, Lord Melbourne?”

Reddington swallowed, his stomach knotting. “There is, ma’am” he said in a low voice. “I have been asked by the House to remind you of your constitutional duty… to marry.”

The young Queen stared at him, her expression as stony as he have ever seen it.

“What business is that of the House?” she enquired icily.

Reddington suppressed a grimace as he attempted to explain. “Ma’am… I am sorry to say that the constitution requires much of the monarch… including that they marry so that they might produce a legitimate heir.”

The Queen sat in silence for a moment, her face pale and eyes as wide as when he had told her she would be Queen.

“You knew this?” she whispered. “You knew that I would be forced to marry?”

Reddington’s lip curled with emotion, his expression tight with shame. “Yes.”

The young Queen exhaled sharply, tears of frustration and anger coming to her eyes.

“And you did not see fit to tell me” she said tightly.

Her voice was calm, though he knew her well enough to detect the anger simmering beneath her pale exterior.

“Ma’am… I sought to protect you from it as long as I could. You had suffered so much already” he said in a low, pained voice.

“Did it occur to you that I do not require your protection?” she said heatedly. “That what I need is the truth from you?”

The young Queen paused then, her full lips pursing angrily. “Prime Minister, you may instruct the House that I should be glad to marry Raymond Reddington, 2nd Viscount Melbourne, at their earliest convenience.”

“Elizabeth” Reddington murmured gently. “You know that is not possible.”

“In which case may they be hanged!” she snapped, her temper flaring. “How _dare_ the Duke of Wellington and these so-called great men instruct me to be married, and say whom I may or may not marry? It is insufferable!”

Reddington shook his head with a sigh. “He dares because the constitution demands it, Your Majesty, and the constitution is the foundation of the monarchy. The foundation of this great nation. I should have told you” he said quietly. “Perhaps I was attempting to protect not just you but myself also, and for that I apologise.”

The Queen raised her dark eyebrows then, her expression softening and a sad smile forming on her full, pink lips.

“How you remind me of those days when you were my tutor, Lord Melbourne. You were a very patient instructor. And I see that the constitution remains as immutable as it was when it was merely the subject of our lessons. Tell me, whom does the Duke of Wellington suggest as my husband?”

Reddington’s lip twitched in distaste. “As a Tory he likely favours your cousin Prince George, Your Majesty. Though there are other options.”

“I should hope so!” the young Queen exclaimed, the disgust apparent in her voice. “I find there are few advantages to being Queen, but let this be one. These pompous old men may be able to force me to marry, but they cannot require that I marry George!”

“They cannot” Reddington affirmed. “Your majesty is already acquainted with the most likely candidates. Traditionally they would be invited to the coronation ball so that you might become better acquainted before making your selection” he said tightly. “As you are Queen and therefore of the highest rank, the usual convention does not apply and it will be up to you to ask for the hand of the gentleman you select.”

The young Queen’s lips parted in dismay. “So soon? Surely I might allow myself a few years of freedom yet!” she said desperately.

Reddington gave her a pained smile. “Is it freedom you want, ma’am? Or is it to delay the inevitable. To spend more time with me. Or perhaps you still have some false hope that the constitution might change” he said gently. “To delay and allow our attachment to grow will only cause pain. Elizabeth… You must take your feelings for me and put them away in a little box. Make room in your heart for another. Allow yourself to love a man who can love you as a husband” he said swallowing hard.

“Oh Reddington Bear” she murmured. “Must I do this?

“You must” he said quietly.

“How am I to choose a husband who is not you? How can I possibly marry when I love another with my whole heart?” the young Queen asked, her voice trembling.

“Dear girl…” he said sadly. “I would not see you unhappy for all the world. Find a man who is free to marry you. One you can love, one who will cherish you. Choose well, for it will be enough for me to know that you are safe and happy. That is my dearest wish for you.”

“You are truly the best man in England, nay, the world. I cannot think there will ever be room in my heart for another” she said desolately. “I do not see how I can do this.”

Reddington swallowed painfully. “Ma’am, there is a further factor to be taken into consideration. Marrying and producing an heir is paramount in ensuring your safety.”

“My safety?” The young Queen repeated with a frown. “I hardly think childbirth to be the safest endeavour.”

Reddington paused. “Your Majesty, you currently have no heir, which means that heaven forbid you die and die childless, the throne would pass to your uncle. That is a precarious position to be in, and I must in good conscience advise against it remaining the case for much longer.”

The young Queen’s lips parted in dismay. “If I am to understand correctly, your counsel is that I must marry and produce an heir in order to protect myself against a threat posed by my uncle. Are you saying he is capable of plotting my death?”

Reddington looked at her, his expression grave. “Ma’am… I am bringing to your attention the fact that you are all that stands between your uncle and the throne” he said quietly.

Queen Elizabeth paused, shaken. “Is it your final counsel that I am constitutionally bound to marry?”

“It is, Your Majesty” Reddington confirmed quietly.

“Very well” she said briskly. “It seems I have no choice. Have the Lord Chamberlain arrange the coronation ball and invite the candidates.”

“It will be done, Your Majesty” Reddington said tightly, the sadness he felt constructing his throat.

He bowed to her and was about to depart when he felt her small hand come to rest on his arm. He looked up to see her gentle gaze, full of compassion and a heartbreak that mirrored his own.

“I will do as you advise, my dearest Reddington Bear” she said softly. “But I cannot promise to love another as I love you. It is simply not possible.”


	12. The Coronation

Queen Elizabeth was crowned at Westminster Abbey, a girl-Queen leading the fragile hopes of a nation in mourning. She entered the abbey where all the great Kings of England had been crowned, walking unescorted ahead of priests and attendants down the great aisle, a magnificent red velvet and ermine train trailing behind her. Her dress was of pure white silk, embroidered with rich gold thread designs depicting the emblems of all the countries of the great British Empire of which she was now ruler.

Reddington regarded her from his position by the throne as she walked slowly towards the seat that she would take as the new monarch, watched by every great lord, aristocratic family, and representative of the nations over which she ruled, standing tall as two thousand pairs of eyes regarded her intently. As she walked towards her destiny, he found he had a lump in his throat as he waited to welcome her as her Prime Minister and representative of the nation. He thought that she kept her eyes on him too, and it occurred to him as she reached him that she was like a heavenly bride, and he a waiting groom.

Yet it was not to be, he thought sadly. She was there to commit herself not to him, but to her country. He marvelled that though she was but a girl and quite alone, she did not falter once, reaching the throne and sitting reverently, her ascension hailed by a hallowed choir, commending the new Queen to the service of God and her people. Though her face remained a little taught with grief and the momentousness of the occasion, he saw the strength that lay beneath, and her spectacular beauty that now looked almost ethereal. Their eyes met for a fleeting moment and he nodded encouragingly, his eyes full of love and pride that he knew she would understand without the need for him to utter a word.

Although British monarchs were traditionally crowned with King Edward’s Crown, the weighty, solid gold, bejewelled dome was determined to be too large and heavy for the young girl to bear, and therefore a new crown was made for her. Queen Elizabeth was crowned with the newly forged Imperial State Crown, a lighter but no less impressive creation of platinum with 2,868 diamonds, 273 pearls, 17 sapphires, 11 emeralds and 5 rubies. If the weight was a burden to her she did not show it, her gaze steadfast and her grip true as she was handed the holy orb and sceptre, while she was anointed with holy oil.

Reddington’s chest puffed with pride as she promised to faithfully serve God and her country, though in his heart it felt for all the world as though for a second time a woman he loved had been torn from him by God for a higher purpose. Though he could not hope to share the bond of matrimony with her, he knew, without a doubt, that he would spend his life in service of her.

* * *

If the young Queen had looked ethereally beautiful at her coronation, her appearance at the coronation ball was utterly sublime. Her ball dress of white silk, lace and silvery-blue thread caressed her low on her shoulders and décolletage, the bodice pinned delicately with rare orchids set in a diamond clasp. The blue sash denoting her status as monarch clung to the dress like a silken skin, and mirrored the striking blue of her eyes. Her dark ringlets were finished with more white orchids, nestled around the impressive George IV State Diadem, its glittering diamonds, pearls and crown-like shape making her look every inch a Queen.

Reddington admired her ravishing beauty from a respectful distance, determined to allow her the space she required to greet the noble gentlemen who would compete for her hand. The young Queen, however, was clearly not of the same mind, and Reddington was touched if a little concerned to find that she sought him out almost immediately, without care for convention.

“Lord Melbourne, I would dance with you” she said primly. “Now that I am Queen I may ask you, you see” she added with a hint of a smile.

“In that case I cannot refuse” he said, returning her smile, and to her delight, he spun her onto the floor as he had once done.

“May I congratulate Your Majesty on your performance today” Reddington told her, the pride evident in his deep voice. “You executed your duties superbly.”

“I would not want to celebrate with anyone else but you” she murmured, gazing up at him. “I am almost as happy in this moment as I was when I first danced with you, Lord Melbourne. I think I should like to dance the next with you. Being Queen must bring some advantages.”

Reddington looked down at her, his expression pained. “You must have a care” he warned quietly. “In dancing your first with me you have already snubbed many more important guests in my favour. You must avoid the appearance of impropriety.”

The young Queen’s chin crumpled a little as she attempted to hold back her disappointment. “I know you are right” she whispered. “Though I assure you it is as hard for me to play the prospective wife of another as it is for you to witness. To ask another man to be my husband when all the while… Do you know how that makes me feel?”

“You will do it because you have to” Reddington said gently. “And you will persevere. You are stronger than you know. You will be happy. I promise.”

With that the music ended and he bowed to her, releasing her with a gentle nod of his head. He watched as she went to greet other guests, fawning gentlemen much younger and less world weary than he, though perhaps also with less wit, he thought wryly. He stepped out onto the balcony to indulge in a cigar, where he was joined by his friend and chancellor Lord Gerard.

“Well my old friend” the chancellor mused. “I no longer laugh at those who hold her to be the greatest beauty in the land. Our Queen is quite extraordinarily handsome. If I may speak candidly, it is plain to see that she admires you greatly. And by that amber stare in your eyes I’d say the feeling is mutual.”

Reddington shook his head, looking out over the darkened garden. “You will think me an old fool, Marvin” he sighed. “There was a time when I thought I might call her wife.”

“ _Indeed?_ And she returned this sentiment?” Lord Gerard asked, astonished.

“She did” Reddington said quietly. “She begged me to petition her father for her hand after he returned from his tour. We never dreamt that he would not return, God rest his soul. _None_ must know of this, Marvin” he added firmly. “Though I must unburden myself for my sanity.”

“Be assured I will tell no one” the chancellor huffed. “For who would believe me? That said, the newspapers have made much of her preference for you. It seems there is indeed no smoke without fire!”

“You must think me utterly ridiculous” Reddington said in a low voice. “A once respectable old man rendered foolish by the love of a beautiful young woman” he said bitterly.

“Oh come now” Lord Gerard scoffed. “You’re no fool Raymond, and your dignity is beyond reproach. And, though it pains me to say it, you’re a handsome devil still. Small wonder she admires you as she does. No, I am only sorry for your current plight” the chancellor said, shaking his head. “There was but small chance the King would have approved such a match, but now that she is Queen, it is quite impossible.”

“I am well aware” Reddington said testily. “Even now she is becoming acquainted with the candidates for her hand in marriage.”

“Not only Queen of England, but young and extraordinarily beautiful too” Lord Gerard mused, shaking his head. “It would not be overstating matters to say that she is truly the most eligible woman in the world. The man who wins her hand will be lucky indeed.”

“Indeed” Raymond agreed with a sigh. “Lucky, and far beyond my reach.”

Lord Gerard turned to him then, his expression unusually sincere. “Whoever he is, he may exceed your reach in society, but never in character. You are truly the most honourable man I have ever known, Raymond.”

“Thank you Marvin, that is kind. It is a comfort to know that I have not lost your good opinion.”

“Over the love of a beautiful woman?” Lord Gerard exclaimed. “Never! On the contrary, you have nothing but my respect, sir! Now let us drink heartily to her Majesty’s good health, and lessen your sorrows in the process.”

Reddington nodded and raised his glass. “To her Majesty Queen Elizabeth. May she rule with longevity and prosperity… and may we all aspire to the _phenomenal_ grace and courage she has shown.”

“Hear hear” Lord Gerard said solemnly, and as they drank deep to the young Queen, Reddington could not help but think of how far she had come; once a precocious, adorable child without a care in the world, she was now, at the tender age of eighteen, Queen of one of the most powerful nations in the world.

At length, Reddington returned to the ballroom, watching from afar as his beloved Queen danced gracefully with Princes and Lords, all of whom were in consideration for her hand in marriage. Her figure on the ballroom floor was exquisite, her slender form, sweeping skirts and glittering diamonds all contributing to a vision that mesmerised him and every other gentleman there.

His reverie was broken by the accented voice of a gentleman who had come to stand next to him as he watched the Queen.

“I understand I have a rival for her affections.”

Reddington turned in surprise, and saw a young man with a closely cropped beard. He was tall and handsome, though he had thin lips and cold eyes which gave him an air of untrustworthiness.

“Ah yes, the Queen is dancing with Prince Donald” Reddington answered the stranger politely. “He is certainly a worthy suitor for her Majesty, being from one of our Kingdom’s great families.”

“I was speaking of you, Lord Melbourne” the man said coldly. “For I believe _you_ are her preferred dancing partner.”

Reddington paused, taken aback by the stranger’s unwelcome candour. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure” he said with a polite smile.

The man turned his attention away from the ballroom to Reddington. “I am Prince Thomas of Coburg.”

“I am pleased to meet you, Your Royal Highness” Reddington said, bowing his head. “I would introduce myself, but it appears you are already acquainted with me.”

“Your reputation indeed precedes you” the Prince answered baldly.

Reddington huffed a laugh. “I suppose that is a hazard that goes hand in hand with being Prime Minister. Although-”

“In particular, your relationship to the Queen” the Prince said, cutting him off abruptly. “It has been the subject of some… speculation.”

Reddington’s lip twitched at the Prince’s snide comment. “I marvel that the German newspapers cannot find anything more substantial to report than idle gossip.”

Prince Thomas pursed his lips thoughtfully as he observed the Queen. “Quite the contrary, Lord Melbourne. I believe a monarch favouring advice from a representative of one political party over another is a matter of great public interest. Her actions have been quite inadvisable.”

Reddington’s expression hardened. “I’m not sure how the relationship between the government and the crown is conducted in Germany sir, but I assure you it is quite proper for the Queen of England to seek the advice of her Prime Minister.”

“But is it proper for her to receive unsupervised visits from him? To behave in such a way as to draw speculation from gossip columns? She is young and inexperienced. I think she would improve greatly if she had a husband to advise her.”

“I can tell you without a shadow of doubt that the Queen is possessed of an extremely strong will, and when her mind is set she cannot be deterred. No, she would not allow herself to be greatly influenced by a husband” Reddington said with feeling.

Prince Thomas turned to him then, an arrogant smile on his thin lips. “Surely that depends on the husband, Lord Melbourne.”

With that, he gave Reddington a shallow nod, before making his way across the ballroom towards the Queen to solicit a dance. As Reddington saw her accept his hand and allow him to lead her onto the ballroom floor, a feeling of foreboding began to settle in his gut.

* * *

The next week when Reddington met with the Queen for their audience he found her seated behind her writing desk, her brow furrowed.

“Lord Melbourne, I am pleased to see you” she greeted him with a wan smile.

“Your Majesty” he said with a bow. “If I may say, you appear preoccupied.”

“I am” the young Queen said with a sigh. “I have done as you advised and assessed the candidates for my husband after meeting them at the coronation ball.”

“I see” Reddington said tightly. “Might I ask what conclusions you have come to?”

“Regrettably most are as boorish or mad as I remembered. The Scottish Prince Donald was affable enough but I think by the end of the evening we were both of the opinion that we were simply not suited. Which leaves Prince Thomas of Coburg, who was something of a dark horse.”

She spoke nonchalantly enough, but Reddington detected a note of interest in her voice that made his jaw tighten and a sourness settle in his gut.

“He was very amiable” she continued, without meeting Reddington’s eye. “Did you have an opportunity to speak with him?”

“I did, Your Majesty” Reddington confirmed without offering further comment.

The young Queen looked up at him expectantly from over her papers. “Well? What was your opinion of him?”

“In truth I found him to be of rather an arrogant nature, ma’am” Reddington said neutrally.

Queen Elizabeth tilted her head slightly in admonishment, her dark curls bouncing a little on her shoulder. “I fear it is in the nature of Princes to be a little arrogant. We must forgive him for that.”

“As you wish, ma’am.”

The Queen huffed a little in exasperation. “Is that all you have to say? What if I said I thought he was a likely candidate for my husband?”

Reddington worked his jaw for a moment before answering. “In that case I would advise caution, ma’am. A foreign prince would not be a popular choice among your people, and based on my experience of him I fear he may prove to be of an unsuitable character for you.”

The young Queen’s expression hardened in displeasure. “So this is all you have for me - prophecies of xenophobia and unsubstantiated concerns over his character. I must say I expected better of you, Lord Melbourne” she said stiffly, shuffling the papers on her desk. “In fact, I do believe you are jealous.”

“Of _course_ I am jealous” Reddington growled, causing the Queen to freeze in her seat, her eyes wide with shock. “It is a base emotion and one which is certainly beneath me, but I feel it all the same. How could I not? I may have advised you to choose a husband but it is no less painful for me to witness.” He paused then to collect himself, his chest heaving under his waistcoat.

“I apologise sincerely for my outburst, Your Majesty” he said in softer tones. “But I can assure you that despite my personal feelings, you will always receive my true advice, which in this case is that I do not believe Prince Thomas to be a suitable match for you. He isn’t the man you think he is” he said quietly.

The young Queen swallowed, chastened. “There is no need to apologise, Lord Melbourne. I should not have asked your opinion on this matter – it was greatly insensitive of me. You may leave.”

“You should ask me” Reddington said gently. “You should have the opinion of someone who only wants the best for you. If you would like to discuss it further-”

“Lord Melbourne” the young Queen interrupted him gently but firmly. “You have my permission to withdraw.”

Reddington clenched his jaw, a pained expression on his face. He wanted nothing more than to stay, to persuade her of the folly of her interest in Prince Thomas, but there was nothing he could do. His Queen had commanded him to leave. He bowed genteelly to her, before departing with a grim feeling taking root in his heart.


	13. A Dangerous Outing

When Reddington next arrived at the palace for his audience with the young Queen, he was surprised to find her waiting for him in an open carriage, its fine horses clopping and stamping impatiently.

“Good morning, Lord Melbourne” she said brightly, the ribbons of her bonnet twisting attractively in the breeze. “It’s such a fine day I thought we might take a turn in the carriage while we speak. I fear my period of mourning has meant that I have not been as present for my people as I should like to be. Now that I am crowned it will be good to make myself seen.”

“I quite agree, ma’am” Reddington said affectionately, his heart swelling with pride at her bravery.

Once he was ensconced beside her in the carriage, they set off through the grand gates of the Buckingham Palace down the long road that led down towards St James’s Park, escorted by a dozen guards on horseback. As they reached the public portion of the road, the young Queen looked around in puzzlement as she saw great crowds gathering, and heard an immense noise erupting around them. She turned to Reddington, confused.

“What in heaven’s name is going on?”

The Prime Minister smiled broadly at her. “They’re cheering, ma’am.”

“What for?” she asked, confused.

“Why for _you_ , ma’am! The country has grieved with you and now they are overjoyed to see you. You may have been shut away, but they have been here waiting patiently for you, following your progress and wishing you well. Give them a wave!”

Stunned, the young Queen raised her gloved hand and began to wave at the gathered crowds as they passed, eliciting further cheers, thunderous clapping and shouts of “God save the Queen!”.

“How extraordinary” she murmured to Reddington. “They do not know me and yet they hold me in such esteem. I’m sure I do not deserve their confidence, for I’ve done nothing yet to earn it.”

“That is not true, ma’am. You are only just crowned and you have already done much to help the populace, and shown yourself to be a just and merciful ruler. The commutation of the Chartists’ sentences in particular proved to be very popular among the people, many of whom are sympathetic to their cause.”

At that point the carriage slowed as the road became narrower, and the young Queen looked on with fascination at the people gathering along their path. There were those who wore fine clothes and others more simply dressed, men, women, old and young, some carrying flowers and others flags. She smiled and waved at a little girl who beamed and curtseyed as they passed, and heard more joyous shouts.

“God bless you ma’am!”

“God bless the Queen!”

“God save Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth!”

The crowd was growing dense and the carriage was forced to stop to avoid people who had gathered in the road, desperate to see a glimpse of the Queen. One of the guards on horseback circled round to the carriage to address its occupants.

“The crowd is exuberant and blocking the road, Your Majesty. We’ll move them along as quickly as we can.”

“It’s quite alright” the young Queen responded, waving cheerfully. “It’s so wonderful to see people.”

Reddington’s lip twitched apprehensively. “Nevertheless ma’am, it cannot be sensible to linger.”

His eyes roamed the jostling crowd anxiously, praying that the people had enough sense to stay well enough away and not mob the young Queen. They seemed harmless enough, but just then his sharp gaze fell on a young man who stood alone and silent, his eyes wide and staring madly at the Queen. Before he could ask one of the guards to investigate, his stomach lurched as the man raised his arm and he saw the flash of sunlight on the metal of a gun.

In a heartbeat he threw himself bodily over the young Queen, just as the shot rang out. A searing pain ripped through his arm and he grunted, aware of nothing but pain and the trembling of the terrified girl he held under his body on the seat of the carriage. Screams went through the crowd and some of the guards formed a circle around the carriage to protect it and still the spooked horses, while others went in pursuit of the gunman.

“He’s been shot! The Prime Minister’s been shot!” someone yelled, and Reddington heard a muffled cry of anguish from the young Queen beneath him.

She began to struggle wildly, and he unceremoniously held her down, desperate to keep her out of the line of fire until the gunman had been apprehended.

“Stay down, ma’am!” he growled. “It is not safe.”

He turned his head with difficulty to one of the alarmed-looking guards. “In God’s name, clear the crowd and get the Queen out of here _immediately_ ” he barked.

The guard nodded, his face pale, and soon Reddington felt the jolt of the carriage turning back towards the palace. They moved quickly over the cobblestones, each turn of the wheels jostling his wounded arm most painfully. Although they were away from the scene, he maintained his grip on the young Queen, thinking only that he must protect her.

Eventually his vision began to blur and he was dimly aware of slumping to the floor of the carriage, followed by a gentle hand caressing his face, and an agonising pressure on his arm. The last thing he saw before he passed out was the heavenly face of his Queen leaning over him, her eyes wet and wide with fear.

* * *

When he came round he was lying atop a bed in the palace surrounded by doctors and guards, the atmosphere buzzing with quiet adrenaline. He took note of little else, for his attention was captured by the young Queen, who sat at his bedside, her slender hand gripping his. As he focussed on her he let out a cry of alarm, seeing that her dress was stained with blood.

“You are hurt!” he choked urgently, his eyes wild with concern for her.

She gripped his hand soothingly and shook her head. “I am not injured, Lord Melbourne” she reassured him. “I am afraid to say the blood is yours, but I am assured by these fine doctors that you should make a full recovery, with rest.”

Reddington fell back on the pillows, his eyes squeezed tight shut with relief. When he opened them again, the young Queen was gazing softly down at him, her hand still holding his.

“You saved my life” she said softly. “It was outstandingly brave.”

“Yes indeed, sir” one of the doctors said, appearing at the bedside. “The country owes you a great debt. Though I might say the same of Her Majesty, for she surely saved your life as much as you did hers – staunched the bleeding with her petticoats she did, very sensible indeed, very sensible.”

Reddington stared at the young Queen in amazement, while she only smiled shyly at him before turning to one of the guards present.

“Am I to understand that the culprit has been apprehended? What is known of him?”

The guard stepped forward and cleared his throat. “That is correct, Your Majesty. The young man’s name is Edward Oxford and he is a former bar keep. A large collection of guns and other… _paraphernalia_ has been discovered at his apartments. He has been detained and questioned, though we will need to question him further to obtain a clearer account” he said evasively.

The young Queen frowned. “What paraphernalia? What reason does this young man have for wanting to kill me?”

The guard cleared his throat again, clearly uncomfortable.

“Your Queen asked you a question” Reddington growled testily.

“It seems he is possessed of a number of delusions” the guard said slowly. “He appears to have a very strong… _attachment_ to you ma’am. His lodgings were full of newspaper clippings and some alarming material relating to Your Majesty, dating back some time.”

“I see” the young Queen said, her eyebrows raised. “Then he is to be pitied for his weak mental state.”

“We can pity him when he is safely convicted” Reddington said seriously. “I expect a full report into this fellow, and as to what steps are being taken to ensure the Queen’s absolute safety henceforth. I need not say that this must not happen again” he said sternly.

“Yes Prime Minister” the guard said soberly.

Queen Elizabeth gave Reddington a small smile, amused and endeared by his ability to command her guards even from his sick bed.

“That will be all” she said, dismissing the guards. “The Prime Minister needs rest.”

“I will move to my residence immediately for my convalescence, ma’am” Reddington said tightly. “I expect to be back on my feet before long.”

“Nonsense!” the young Queen responded firmly. “You shall stay here and be attended by my doctors until you have made a full recovery.”

Reddington opened his mouth to protest, but the Queen swiftly held up her hand. “I shall brook no refusal, Lord Melbourne.”

With that she rose and left the room, leaving the remaining occupants in awe of her despite her young years.

* * *

While Reddington continued his convalescence at Buckingham Palace, the young Queen had fine treats sent to his apartments to aid his recovery. Aside from a steady supply of their favourite chocolate truffles, he received exciting new novels and publications, and to his delight, fine tea from china that opened like a beautiful flower when hot water was poured upon it.

One day he was sitting by the window overlooking the west garden, reading the report into the Queen’s assassination attempt, when the lady herself appeared in his sitting room, carrying an object over which was draped a velvet cloth. 

“Your Majesty” he said in surprise, making to get up from his chair.

“No! I insist you sit” she said hastily. “I would not do anything to undermine your recovery. We shall not consider this to be a formal visit.”

“You have been extremely generous, ma’am. Indeed I feel that I am improved enough to return to my residence tomorrow.”

The young Queen smiled softly. “That is very good news, Lord Melbourne. I am so relieved to hear it, though I shall miss having you as my guest. It has been most fun finding ways to surprise you.”

“It has been most fun being surprised” Reddington answered with a small smile.

The Queen’s smiled broadened, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “I have one last gift for you” she told him, setting the object in her hand down on a table.

He watched with interest as she removed the cloth, revealing a golden cage, in which was perched a delicate and beautifully painted mechanical bird. The young Queen twisted a small lever on the side of the cage, and Reddington smiled with interest and delight as the bird began to flutter its painted wings, while delicate music began to play.

“It is our waltz” Queen Elizabeth said fondly. “Do you recognise it?”

“I do” Reddington breathed, a strange lump forming in his throat as he recalled their first dance, the first time he had danced since his poor wife and child had been taken from him. “It is an exquisite gift, ma’am. Thank you.”

The Queen’s eyes fell on the papers in front of him. “You appear to be hard at work despite the fact that I distinctly recall the doctor recommending absolute rest” she admonished gently.

Reddington twitched a smile at the young Queen’s attempt to mother him, a man in his forties.

“In truth it is the report into the attempt on your life, Your Majesty” he told her, removing his reading glasses and placing them on the papers.

“Is there anything of interest that is not already known?” the Queen asked with a frown. “Surely Oxford is a madman and there is nothing more to it.”

Reddington sighed. “I’m afraid there are additional facts Your Majesty should be made aware of. You recall your guard’s allusion to the material relating to you found in Oxford’s lodgings.”

“I do, though I cannot imagine the nature of it, nor do I wish to.”

“Indeed ma’am, I think that is wise” Reddington said with a grimace. “It is clear his attachment to you is extreme. However, the material also detailed a fantasy in which he rescued you from what he viewed as your current plight as Queen… a situation he believed should not have been forced upon you.”

The young Queen looked at him, puzzled. “But given that his fantasy has no basis in reality, I do not see that it is a cause for concern.”

“I’m afraid I do, ma’am” Reddington said, pursing his lips. “The papers discovered make it clear that he believes your uncle the Duke of Cumberland to be the true heir to the throne, and that the crown has been falsely thrust upon you. Such a belief is dangerous, Your Majesty, and it is entirely possible that it was weaponised by those who do not have your best interests at heart.”

The young Queen’s lips parted in dismay. “You believe that my uncle procured a madman to do his bidding?”

“It is certainly a convenient fantasy, Your Majesty” Reddington said gravely.

“What will happen if my uncle is found to have plotted my death?” the Queen asked, shaken.

“He would be tried for treason, ma’am, though I should tell you that nothing has been found definitively linking him to the attempt on your life, nor do I think any such evidence will ever emerge. Your uncle is too intelligent to leave proof. I’m afraid Oxford’s actions will be recorded as the random act of a madman.”

“Then what do you suggest?”

Reddington sighed. “My counsel has not changed, Your Majesty. Marry, and produce an heir. It is your constitutional duty, and the only way you will be safe.”

“I see” the Queen said distantly. “In that case I shall bid you good day, Lord Melbourne, for I have much to attend to. I wish you a speedy recovery and a safe journey home.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty” he said in a low voice as she left the room. “Thank you.”

* * *

That night, Reddington found himself unable to sleep, though it wasn’t the twinge from the wound in his arm that plagued him, so much as the thought that he would soon be gone from the Queen’s residence, and from her heart. He wanted so dearly for her to be happy, though the pain of letting her go seemed in the dark hours of the night to be quite unbearable.

Just then he started suddenly at a creaking sound from the far wall of the room. He quickly lit the candle on his bedside and watched, alarmed, his eyes squinting in the darkness. The young Queen seemed to appear as a ghost from nowhere, slipping out from behind one of her secret panels, illuminated by the single candle she held in her hand. Her luxurious dark hair was loose, falling almost to her waist in silken waves, contrasting against the white of her nightgown and making her look like some fairy princess or angel.

“Your Majesty!” he exclaimed from his bed, painfully aware that he wore only a nightshirt. “Forgive me for not receiving you properly” he spluttered, utterly dumfounded. “If you would allow me a moment to dress-”

“Shhh” the young Queen hushed him, putting her finger to her lips with a smile. “Tonight I am not ‘Your Majesty’. I am only your Lizzie. Just for this night” she whispered, approaching him tentatively. “If you will have me.”

Reddington swallowed hard, unable to believe the magic that was occurring before him. She had surely cast a spell on him for although he should have advised her against it, although he knew better than to exacerbate the pain of losing her, in that moment he could not refuse her. Wordlessly he drew back the covers on the luxurious bed, and, delighted, she placed her candle next to his on the bedside and climbed in beside him.

She nestled immediately into the crook of his shoulder quite as though she had always belonged there, and he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her to him as though he could not bear to let her go. He placed a reverent kiss to her temple, and she raised her face up then, brushing her lips against his. It was chaste at first, sweet little kisses that stirred a myriad of feelings within him, but his lust was ignited as he felt the contours of her body beneath her nightdress, the luxurious cotton falling sensually over the curve of her breasts and buttocks. As if sensing his passion, she raised her arms and discarded her nightdress, and he was lost in her.

He dispensed with his own nightshirt and rolled her beneath him, relishing the feel of her smooth, creamy skin, the warmth of her body between his sheets seeming to bring him such comfort and desire as he had never felt. He kissed her indulgently, exploring her liberally and pleasurably, and she allowed it, her gasps and giggles and moans feeding his lust like oxygen would a fire. She bucked into him as he suckled her rosy nipples as he had often dreamed of doing, his long fingers finding their way to that secret place between her legs.

He marvelled as she parted her legs for him, eagerly accepting his touch as he teased her moist flesh, rubbing and sliding until she began to pant beneath him.

“I want to give myself to you” she breathed. “I want everything. Just this once. Please.”

His mouth opened in disbelief, his eyes darkened with passion. “If that is your wish, dearest Lizzie… I cannot deny you.”

“It is” she whispered, and she drew him to her, encouraging him to lay upon her small frame.

He captured her mouth again, stirring her with sweet kisses, until she felt his impressive manhood twitch and poke between her legs. She opened her thighs wider, and taking her invitation he gripped his length, teasing and sliding between her virgin lips until he pushed slowly forward into her.

She whimpered in discomfort and he held her close, stilling his movement until she was ready.

“Shhh dear girl, you are quite well” he reassured her, his voice low and trembling. “It will only hurt for a moment. Allow yourself time-” he broke off with a hiss as she opened her legs further and he sank in deeper, sliding into her like exquisite silk.

He stared at her in wonder as he began to move gently within her, his movements agonisingly sweet and slow, each stroke gentle and loving and liable to make him release inside her. He closed his eyes then, his lids creased shut in concentration and she caressed his cheek softly. He lowered his forehead to touch hers, his lower body rubbing and nudging against her until she whined luxuriously and he felt her grip his manhood so tightly as she was overcome by pleasure. His own sweet release came shortly thereafter, twitching and shuddering inside her, barely thrusting, enough as it was to have penetrated her, to have held her in his arms, his little Lizzie - his Queen.

When they were spent, he held her closely, memorising the feel of her body nestled next to his, for the memory would be all that he had. Her slender fingers moved in circles on his chest, toying with the coarse dark hair peppered with grey. Their candles burned lower and lower on the bedside and yet neither made a move to sleep, only clung to one another.

“This is goodbye, isn’t it” the young Queen whispered then.

“It is, dearest Lizzie” he sighed. “When the dawn comes you will be Queen again, and I only your faithful Prime Minister.”

“I have decided to marry Prince Thomas” she told him quietly.

Reddington swallowed hard. “Lizzie… I’m telling you, he’s not the man you think he is.”

“You don’t know him” the Queen pointed out.

“Neither do you. And you’re attempting to build a life with a man who is fundamentally unworthy of you.”

“Is there anyone that you _would_ consider worthy?” the young Queen asked gently.

Reddington sighed, kissing the top of her head as he held her in his arms. “I only wish I could believe he will make you happy.”

“There is no one who will make me happy as you do. I will not be dissuaded” she told him.

“I know” he said with a sad smile. “Once you put your mind to something there are none who can move you.”

She raised her head from his chest then, her deep blue eyes looking at him solemnly. “I have instructed that you be awarded the George Cross Medal for bravery. You saved my life. Let that be the token you remember me by.”

Reddington smiled softly down at her, his heart bursting with both pride and sadness. “I shall be honoured to wear it. You may belong to another, but know that I shall continue to love you and serve you as long as I live.”

He leaned down to kiss her one last time, and they clung to one another until the first rays of dawn began to peek in through the window, signalling that their time was at an end.


	14. A Bad Beginning

Queen Elizabeth married Prince Thomas of Coburg in a small ceremony in Westminster Cathedral, the muted festivities ostensibly a sign of respect to a Queen and country still in mourning for the deceased King. Reddington watched from the nobles’ gallery, his viscount’s coronet weighing heavily on his head. He had entered the cathedral burning with rage, with the injustice of it, with a hatred for the man who would be her husband. But as he looked down at the young Queen, radiant as an angel from heaven in her pure white wedding dress, he was overcome with an extraordinary sense of reverence for her. She was incandescent, and he was powerless to do anything except to watch her say her vows, and to silently renew his own to serve her faithfully until his last breath.

The Queen and the Prince took only a three day honeymoon in Scotland, the Queen insisting that affairs of state would not permit her to stay away longer. When they returned, their first engagement as a royal couple was to inspect building work on a new wing of the Houses of Parliament, and, as Prime Minister, Reddington was required to be their guide.

It was a task he had been anticipating with extreme distaste and melancholy, unable to bear the thought of seeing his Elizabeth with another man. He longed to look upon her lovely face again, but at the same time his heart hurt at the thought of what he would see there, for she would surely have the glow that marriage puts in a woman’s cheeks and he would have to bear the knowledge that it was not he who put it there.

The Queen and Prince Thomas arrived with an entourage of courtiers and the architects who had worked on the building, and as Reddington approached he strained to see the Queen as the crowd obscured her from his view. Further, the hallowed halls of Westminster echoed unpleasantly with the Prince’s voice, as he spoke excessively and entirely too loud in an environment that required some reverence. The crowd parted as the Prime Minister approached the royal couple and when he finally laid eyes on the young Queen, his apprehension and resentment left him in an instant, to be replaced by pure concern.

Far from being a blushing bride, she looked unhappy, with dark circles under her eyes betraying a lack of sleep. Her manner was polite but distant with all those who spoke to her, her smiles forced. Prince Thomas appeared oblivious, indeed he paid little heed to his wife at all other than to place a propriety hand at her back, which made Reddington seethe with resentment of the arrogant young Prince.

“Your Majesty” Reddington said with a polite bow. “Your Royal Highness. I trust you had a pleasant trip.”

“It was most satisfactory” the Prince answered in clipped tones, “though disagreeably short due to my wife’s insistence that she is needed in London. I wonder if perhaps she does not trust you to run the country in her absence, Lord Melbourne” he joked mockingly.

The young Queen reddened with embarrassment. “I assure you I have the utmost confidence in Lord Melbourne, but one cannot expect him to perform all the duties of the crown in addition to his own” she said tightly.

The Prince shrugged disdainfully, and Reddington began the tour, his antipathy towards the Prince growing by the minute. As they continued through the hallowed halls of Westminster, Reddington could not help but seek an opportunity to speak with the Queen alone, eager as he was to check that she was well. Finally it came when one of the architects led the group to inspect a particularly fine column, and he discretely led the Queen to a quiet chamber beside the hall.

“Your Majesty, you seem out of sorts. What is it that troubles you?” he enquired quietly.

“Thank you for your concern Lord Melbourne, but I assure you I am perfectly content” she said stiffly. “If you’ll excuse me, I must re-join my party.”

She made to leave and he laid his hand gently on her sleeve. “I know you too well” murmured. “Please tell me what has you so upset.”

The young Queen frowned fretfully, her eyes darting to Reddington’s before looking down at the floor, her breathing agitated.

Reddington sighed impatiently, his mind racing with unpleasant thoughts and suppositions. “In God’s name, what is it?” he pressed, beside himself.

She looked up at him then, her expression so forlorn that he wanted to embrace her tightly and never let go.

“I know little of the ways of husbands” she said then. “But if you were my husband… I believe things would be different” she said enigmatically. “I really must return before I am missed.”

With that, she left the chamber to re-join her party, leaving him with a thousand questions, his mind in turmoil.

* * *

The next time Reddington saw both the Queen and Prince Thomas together was at a small, informal gathering at the palace, to which he was invited with a few other selected guests, with a view to introducing Prince Thomas to prominent members of society. When he entered the large sitting room which had been arranged for the event, he was greeted by the Queen and Prince who stood rather stiffly together. The Queen looked radiant in an off-shoulder delicate silk of the lightest pink, the material trimmed with a fine white chiffon, while her husband wore his German Royal colours, a formality that was a little out of place at an intimate event.

Reddington bowed respectfully to the Queen and Prince, and was privately grateful that the Queen did not extend her hand for him to kiss.

“Lord Melbourne” the Prince greeted him curtly. “Welcome. Though I wonder that you have time for such leisurely gatherings given the great demands and responsibility of your office.”

“I am here at the invitation of the Queen” Reddington replied with a plastic smile.

“Indeed” the young Queen said quickly. “You are most welcome, Lord Melbourne. We are grateful that you have made time for our little gathering. I know how busy you are.”

“Your Majesty” he said politely, and was only too glad to remove himself to a chaise to make room for the royal couple to greet other guests. His respite was not to be for long, however, as not long later the Prince summoned him at a rather excessive volume.

“Lord Melbourne, do you play cards?”

“I do sir, though I am a little out of practice.”

“Then you will join us” the Prince commanded imperiously, gesturing to the table where he was now sitting with several other gentlemen and the Queen’s aunt, the Duchess of Cumberland. “We are in need of another player.”

“In that case I’d be happy to oblige” Reddington said as pleasantly as he could muster.

“Good evening, Prime Minister” the Duchess greeted him as the hands were dealt. “Tell me, do you still act as Private Secretary to my niece?”

“I do, Your Grace” Reddington confirmed tightly.

“That is quite an unusual arrangement, is it not?” the Duchess continued provocatively.

“Not particularly” Reddington replied evenly. “As Prime Minister I am already required to keep Her Majesty appraised of circumstances that require her response. It is expedient that I act on her instruction in those matters.”

“It is preposterous” Prince Thomas snapped as he flicked down a card from his hand. “Practically unconstitutional. I fear my wife has not acted sensibly in this matter.”

Reddington’s eyes narrowed, aware that the Queen would be able to hear the conversation.

“I believe I am well-placed to act for Her Majesty until a replacement can be found” he replied tersely.

“That process appears to be taking some time” the Duchess commented with a sly smile. “Perhaps she is reluctant to give you up.”

Reddington stole a glance at the young Queen who was seated on a nearby chaise. Though she appeared to be in conversation with another lady, he noted the colour rise in her cheeks as she overheard the conversation.

“And where is your husband the Duke tonight, Your Grace?” Reddington enquired pointedly. “I have not seen him in some time. In fact, I do not believe he has attended court since the assassination attempt on the Queen.”

The Duchess stiffened defensively. “He is in Hanover at present – he finds the company at court most disagreeable. All these terrible rumours that he was somehow involved in the attempt on my niece’s life… it is utterly ridiculous” she muttered.

“Indeed” Reddington said sagely, picking up a card from the table. “Although I wonder that he did not stay to dispel the rumours. It is possible that someone who was not convinced of his innocence might construe his absence as guilt...”

The Duchess reddened, taking a long sip of her champagne while she formulated her riposte. “I must say the incident benefitted you, Lord Melbourne – the British public just adore your heroism in saving my niece from certain death. Indeed I have it on good authority that you laid your person upon her in order to shield her – how very _brave_ of you” she said spitefully.

Reddington’s eyes snapped up darkly at the provocative comment, and there was a clinking of glasses as Prince Thomas brought his fist down on the table in anger.

“Enough!” he snapped, his cold eyes glittering with hatred.

“Perhaps we should have some music” the Queen chimed in loudly, moving hastily to the piano forte.

“An excellent notion” Prince Thomas said in a clipped voice as he began to deal another hand of cards. “All women of good breeding should play. In this their time is better spent than in idle conversation or the reading of novels that may spoil their sensibilities.”

Reddington pursed his lips, attempting to hide his irritation. “It is my belief that the consumption of novels greatly improves the mind of the reader, regardless of their sex. Indeed sir, as you may be aware, the Queen herself is a great reader and sets a good example to us all.”

Prince Thomas looked up at him, his eyes sharp and challenging. “She will have little time for any of her current _pursuits_ once the children are born” he said coldly. “She will naturally be too busy in the nursery.”

Reddington’s gaze hardened at the Prince’s insufferable attitude, and he felt a pang on behalf of the Queen as he heard her playing falter at the piano forte on hearing her husband’s callous comment.

“Forgive me gentlemen, ladies,” Reddington said, laying down his hand. “I have sadly not the requisite experience to be an asset to this game, and I believe the Queen requires assistance turning her music. There my time would be used to better effect.”

The Prince scowled at him sourly and Reddington bowed politely before going to join the Queen at the piano forte. Her grateful look told him that he had made the right decision, and he leaned gently over behind her to turn the page of her score. As he did so he could not help but admire the curve of her swan-like neck and her exposed shoulders, and revel in her delicate floral scent. From his vantage point he had to take great pains not to allow his gaze to settle on her enticing bosom, her delicate diamond necklace and the artfully arranged chiffon making the task of averting his eyes all the more challenging. He settled for marvelling in the fluidity of her slender fingers as they moved over the piano keys, the tune wistful and transporting.

“That is rather a dull tune for a merry occasion is it not” the Prince commented from across the room, jarring Reddington from his pleasant reflection. “Perhaps you might play something a little more entertaining, _liebchen._ ”

“Quite so” the Duchess agreed. “Do you play, Lord Melbourne? Perhaps you could do a duet with the Queen” she said with a vindictive smile.

From his position next to the Queen, Reddington could hear her faint intake of breath at the Duchess’s meddlesome comment, though she completed her piece admirably.

“Alas I play but poorly, and do not know any duets” Reddington replied politely.

“On the contrary! I happen to know you play exceedingly well” the Queen said then. “Lord Melbourne often delighted us as children with his recitals.”

“I fear that was some time ago” Reddington said, hoping that she would heed the gentle warning in his tone.

The young Queen, however, was not to be deterred, her mission no doubt to punish her husband and aunt for their conduct.

“It was not so long ago that all might be forgotten” she said crisply. “I insist you play for us” she finished, getting up from the piano stool and gesturing at him to sit.

“Ma’am” Reddington acceded tightly, and sat down, beginning to play a jolly dance that he hoped might appease present company.

Prince Thomas flicked down two cards from his hand, his lips set in a thin line. “It seems your claim to play poorly was entirely false, Lord Melbourne. I have observed it is a singular habit of the English to understate their abilities to the extent that it can only be construed as dishonesty.”

“My dear, will you dance?” the Queen asked the Prince quickly, her tone tense. “Come all, let us dance” she commanded.

Prince Thomas tossed his hand on the table and went to join his wife, holding out his hand to her. “Indeed, dear wife. And how fitting it is that we should all dance to Lord Melbourne’s tune.”

Reddington continued to play, though his blood boiled beneath his refined exterior. Stealing a glance at the room, he watched hollowly as the Prince danced with the woman he loved, and in that moment he began to nurture a singular hatred for her arrogant young husband.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I know, boo hiss etc - hopefully it's worth it for a bit of forbidden romance! Stick with me... Also you might have noticed a few bits inspired by various Jane Austin novels, so thank you to the queen of awkward regency romances!


	15. Resignation

After spending that wretched evening in the company of the Queen and her husband, Reddington knew without doubt that he would never be able to remove her from his heart, and that his continued presence would drive a wedge between the royal couple. Though it pained him deeply to do it, he knew that the only chance she would have of happiness with her husband would be if he took a step back from her life. His heart was heavy with the pain that his decision would cause them both, though he knew it to be the honourable thing to do.

On his next audience with the Queen in her private sitting room, he found her sitting deep in thought on a chaise, looking utterly enchanting in a cornflower blue silk gown. She turned and smiled when he was announced, though he noted her affect was a little anxious.

“Lord Melbourne, welcome.”

“Your Majesty” he said with a bow. “May I take this opportunity to thank you in person for a most diverting evening’s entertainment on my last visit.”

The young Queen regarded him with a wry expression, her dark, elegant eyebrows raised. “You are too kind, Lord Melbourne, for we both know full well it was a most disagreeable occasion – I wonder that you were able to bear such crass conversation and slights upon your good character. But then I should not be surprised that you are so magnanimous. You are of a more generous nature than others among our party” she said with a sigh.

“Please do not trouble yourself, ma’am” Reddington replied with a reassuring smile. “I endure much worse on a near constant basis from members of the opposition.”

Queen Elizabeth smiled at that and he was glad to see it, for it had been too long since he had seen her look happy.

“May I enquire as to how the Prince is settling into life as the husband of the Queen?” he asked.

The Queen looked down then, her features taught with anxiety. “I think after the other evening you know the answer to that” she said regretfully. “He is not content. Further, I am afraid your prediction that the British people would not welcome a foreign prince was accurate.”

Reddington raised his eyebrows questioningly and the young Queen handed him a copy of a newspaper with a page folded. As he inspected it he saw immediately the cause for the Queen’s concern.

The page held a large satirical sketch, featuring the Queen, the Prince and, he was disturbed to find, himself. The Queen was pictured in her wedding gown her arms raised as if in a plea for help, the assassin Edward Oxford behind her holding his gun. Reddington was depicted as a rescuing knight on horseback, his sword drawn. Between them on the ground was a small, squat, disgruntled-looking dog, which the artist had labelled ‘ _The German Prince_.’

“It’s a Dachshund, you see” the Queen explained. “A small breed of German dog - sometimes referred to as a sausage dog.”

Reddington’s mouth twitched slightly in an effort to keep his composure, but to his surprise the Queen suddenly began to laugh, the sound melodious and delightful, and so welcome to his ears. He waited patiently until she had calmed herself enough to speak.

“As I’m sure you have gathered, the Prince is not pleased with the cool reception he has received from the British press” she told him.

“I imagine he is not” Reddington answered soberly.

“I had hoped that the newspapers would forget their speculation about our relationship now that I am married, but it appears not.”

Reddington sighed. “My advice is to give the Prince some occupation, some opportunity to prove himself to the people. Perhaps as patron of the arts, or some charitable organisation.”

The Queen looked uncomfortable then, and hesitated before speaking. “I agree he needs an opportunity to gain their respect… Lord Melbourne, the Prince has requested he be given the title ‘King Consort’. He feels that being given the title of ‘King’ will encourage the respect he is due.”

Reddington paused, taken aback. “Such a title would require passing a bill through parliament, ma’am, which would by no means be guaranteed successful. May I ask, is it _your_ wish that he be given this honour?”

Queen Elizabeth looked at him in silence for a moment, pouting fretfully. “In truth I feel that respect will not come automatically with a title, even one as grand as King Consort. Respect has to be earned. And yet I am also aware that he has not had the easiest introduction to life as the husband of a queen, and for that reason I am reluctant to refuse him” she said slowly.

Reddington’s lip twitched. “With respect ma’am, the decision would be made by parliament rather than Your Majesty.”

“Yes indeed. Put the question to them, Lord Melbourne. I know that you and your parliament will make the right decision” she said guardedly.

“As you wish, Your Majesty” Reddington said with a slight nod. “Ma’am there is another point of business, if I may.”

“Of course, Lord Melbourne.”

Reddington paused and cleared his throat. “Now that you are returned from your honeymoon and settled, I must bring to your attention that next year signals the end of my current term as Prime Minister.”

The young Queen’s blue eyes widened anxiously at his words. “That is so, but I understand the Whigs are likely to win the next election. You will serve another term as Prime Minister, of course” she said, perturbed.

Reddington worked his jaw, regretfully. “Ma’am, you are correct that it is very possible that my party will continue to hold office, but I have held the post of Prime Minister for two terms already. Convention dictates that I give one of my colleagues a chance at the role, let a younger man take the reins. A government needs fresh blood to best serve its people.”

The Queen’s lips parted in dismay. “I strongly disagree, Lord Melbourne” she said heatedly. “The government owes its success to you, and I’ve no doubt it is due to your leadership that your party will continue to remain in office. You cannot think of standing down!” she said, panicked.

“Ma’am, it may be difficult to see at present, but this is for the best” he said gently. “Stepping back from public life may be what is required to end the speculation as to our relationship in the national press. Allowing it to continue would not only undermine your reign but also your marriage. If I may be so bold, I might say that you would benefit from space to focus on your marriage without any… distraction that my continued presence may bring. Give yourself the best chance of happiness” he added quietly. “I would not want to stand in the way.”

“Lord Melbourne, your role is to advise me on affairs of state, _not_ affairs of the heart” the young Queen answered crisply. “I assure you I am perfectly capable of managing my marriage myself.”

Reddington sighed in regret, loathe to cause her anxiety. “Ma’am… Regardless of our personal circumstances, it would be most irregular for a Prime Minister to continue for a third term. The Home Secretary John Russell is an excellent man who I can recommend most highly to you as the man to succeed me.”

“I am sure he is an excellent man, but I do not require a recommendation, Lord Melbourne – I already have a Prime Minister” she said stubbornly. 

Reddington swallowed hard. “Your Majesty, I have been honoured to serve you as Prime Minister, and I assure you that I shall continue to serve you faithfully when I am out of office. But it is right and necessary that I tender my resignation” he said firmly.

“I do not accept it!” the young Queen snapped then, her blue eyes taking on an icy, immovable quality that Reddington remembered from their disagreements of old.

Reddington looked pained, and paused for a moment. “I understand that this is not welcome news to you, but you cannot interfere with the workings of parliament, as you are well aware.”

The Queen looked at him stonily, her full lips pursed in displeasure. “If I am not mistaken, a government may only form after an election at _my_ invitation.”

Reddington blinked, taken aback. “Technically speaking, that is correct, ma’am” he said with a frown.

“Then I shall hear no more on the matter. Let this be due warning, Lord Melbourne, that assuming your party is elected I expect you and _only_ you to come to me to request to form a government. Have I made myself clear?”

“Perfectly clear, Your Majesty” Reddington said tightly.

Deeply chastened, he was about to remove himself when she spoke again.

“I will see you at the court ball on Friday, Prime Minister” she said firmly.

Reddington raised his eyebrows. “I had not planned to attend, Your Majesty. Regrettably I have a prior engagement.”

“It was not a request” she rejoined haughtily. “I will see you there. Until then, you have my permission to withdraw.”

Reddington bowed stiffly before departing swiftly in an effort to conceal his anger and dismay from the wilful young Queen.

* * *

When the night of the court ball came, Reddington prepared himself with a dark broodiness settling around him. The only slight softening of his affect came when he pinned on his George Cross, the medal of honour that the Queen had bestowed on him for saving her life. The days apart had not abated his frustration with the obstinate little head of state, but when he entered the ballroom and saw her across the floor, he could not help but be affected by her heavenly appearance.

He was deeply angry with her, for her stubbornness, her childishness, but he had to concede that her beauty in his eyes was in no way diminished by his ire. She looked utterly sublime, a vision in iridescent blue and silver silk, her dark hair adorned with small white flowers and a delicate sapphire, diamond and pearl tiara nestled among her dark curls. Steeling himself, he went to greet her and Prince Thomas, bowing politely.

As he raised his head his breath caught in his throat as he saw that the Queen wore the pendant he had given her for her eighteenth birthday, the carved likeness of his cherished gardens nestled on her bosom. His expression darkened and he gave her a warning look, which she received with icy serenity.

“Welcome, Lord Melbourne” she greeted him primly.

“Your Majesty, Your Royal Highness” Reddington said stiffly, avoiding the Prince’s scowl and keeping his eyes on the Queen.

“I am so glad that you could come” she said then, a note of triumph in her voice.

“As a loyal subject, it is my duty to go where my Queen commands” he answered coldly.

His rebellious tone was not lost on the Queen, and as Prince Thomas turned away to speak with other guests, she stepped towards him, a challenging gleam in her eyes.

“Will you dance, Prime Minister?”

“If it is Your Majesty’s wish” he responded tightly, and took her gloved hand in his, leading her onto the floor for the rather dramatic waltz that had started up. 

They danced in heavy silence for the first few minutes, their gazes fixed on one another as they sized each other up, each challenging the other to submit, to be the first to speak. His hand rested with daring firmness at her back, and she held her chin high, as if letting him know that despite the fact that he dwarfed her in power and strength, she was ultimately in control. When he could bear her stubbornness no longer, he broke the tense silence with a nod to his pendant about her neck. 

“That is a very fine ornament” he said looking at her meaningfully.

“It was a gift, from a very dear friend” she responded in clipped tones.

Reddington’s tongue ran impatiently across his lower lip. “In that case ma’am, I wonder that you would choose to wear it in public, given its… _sentimental_ value” he said pointedly, gritting his teeth.

Her gaze snapped up to meet his, her sapphire eyes glittering with anger.

“How _dare_ you presume to lecture me!” she hissed under her breath.

At that moment the music came to a close and he steered her firmly away from her guests and onto the balcony, into the cool night air and the privacy the shadows afforded them.

“You must avoid a scene” he growled. “Goodness knows you’ve taken enough of a risk wearing the pendant I gave you!”

“Why shouldn’t I wear it?” she challenged. “You yourself assured me that the contents are known to no one but us.”

Reddington’s lip curled impatiently over his bottom teeth, his chest heaving with the effort of staying calm.

“You are _married_ , Elizabeth! Or has that fact escaped your notice?”

Hurt and enraged, she snatched her arm out of his grasp and turned away from him to look out over the garden.

“Of course it hasn’t” she said hollowly. “How could I possibly forget? How can I forget when I see you all the time and am reminded that I am married to another, that I cannot be with you!”

“Do you not know that my heart breaks every time I see you with him?” Reddington growled behind her. “That the pain of being so close to you and yet so far away is crushing, and yet I will do it because I have sworn to serve you. If you too now feel the pain of my continued presence then I _urge_ you to accept the resignation I offered. I can only do as you command, Your Majesty – if you require me to stay then I have no other choice. But I can advise you – indeed, I implore you – release me! Let me out of your life and bring us peace.”

She turned back to him then, unshed tears shining in her eyes like tiny diamonds against sapphire blue.

“Do you really imagine that would bring us peace, Lord Melbourne?” she whispered. “For us to be separated? To think that I shall not look upon your face again, nor you mine?”

Reddington had no answer for that, for it was surely true that much as it pained him to see her with another, the thought of not looking upon her again was, in that moment, unbearable. In his heart he knew that he would rather be close to her, in whatever capacity he could be, to watch her, to help her, to be anything she needed, even if it meant seeing her with her husband. 

She walked to him then, and gently raised her hand to rest a moment on the George Cross medal pinned over his heart.

“This looks very well on you” she murmured quietly.

“I cherish it” he told her quietly.

She looked up at him then, her eyes glistening sadly. “Then you understand why I wear your pendant. It is not to hurt you. Only it is all I have of you.”

She raised a gloved hand to her eyes, delicately dabbing away her tears. “I must return before I am missed.”

Reddington swallowed and nodded, standing unmoving as she walked away. When she reached the threshold she paused for a brief moment.

“You cannot go. I cannot do without you, Reddington Bear” she whispered, and then she was gone, returned to the fray.

“You won’t have to, my Lizzie” he murmured into the night. “I am yours.”


	16. Jealousy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for domestic violence. Please avoid if this triggers or offends.

Reddington did as the Queen had instructed and put the Prince’s request to be titled King Consort to parliament. As he’d suspected, the proposal was met with derision by MPs on both sides of house and was roundly voted down on the basis that the Prince had done nothing whatsoever to earn the honour and, as a foreigner, should not be given too much power. When he had informed the Queen of the outcome she had not appeared overtly disappointed, but had surprised him by requesting that he inform the Prince of the outcome himself. He’d accepted her invitation to court the next morning, though he did not relish the prospect of speaking with the Prince.

The court was unusually busy, it being the season for the country nobility to make pilgrimages to the capital, and it was some time before Reddington was able to find a moment alone with the Prince. Eventually the opportunity presented itself and he approached the younger man with a polite smile.

“Your Royal Highness, I wonder if I might have a word.”

“Very well” the Prince said impatiently, availing himself of the fine fruits arranged on a table beside them. “What is it, Lord Melbourne? There are many people I must speak with today” he added pompously.

Reddington’s lip twitched slightly as he attempted a neutral expression to deliver his news. “Sir, I regret to inform you that after due consideration, parliament has rejected your request to be titled King Consort.”

The Prince froze, his eyes cold and gleaming and his jaw set with rage. “And what, may I ask, was their reason?” he asked, his voice simmering with anger.

“Your Royal Highness may be aware that the title of King or Queen Consort is not automatically awarded to the spouse of the monarch, indeed it has but rarely been bestowed. In this case the House felt that it would not be prudent to award the title to one so new to our shores” Reddington explained tactfully.

The Prince was still for a moment and then shocked Reddington by violently turning over a fruit platter in a fit of temper, the silverware clattering on the floor and scattering its contents.

“This is your doing, Melbourne! You plot and scheme against me!”

“I assure you the decision of the House was unanimous” Reddington told him firmly. “I could not have swayed them. Now I suggest you calm yourself before you attract unwanted attention” he added scathingly.

The Prince’s lip curled into a sneer. “You think that this is correct?” he hissed. “That my wife be a Queen while I remain a mere Prince? _Gottverdammt!_ A wife should _not_ be higher than her husband!” he spat, stabbing his finger on the table.

Reddington was both disturbed and disgusted by the Prince’s temper and his expression darkened. “May I remind you, sir, that whether or not you are named King Consort she would always outrank you” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “ _She_ is the monarch. _She_ is the Sovereign Queen. You cannot hope to be her equal” he added pointedly.

Prince Thomas looked at him with hatred in his eyes, but then he appeared to calm, a smirk coming over his features that made Reddington detest him more.

“I see you are her staunch defender” the Prince sneered. “You know, perhaps it is you who are the faithful lap dog and not me, as your press would have it. There is something you would do well to remember, Lord Melbourne - there is one place a wife will never outrank her husband… The _bedroom_ ” he taunted, popping a grape into his mouth with an insolent smirk before walking away.

Reddington watched in horror as the Prince re-joined the crowd, smiling politely without a trace of the anger he had shown moments before. He understood now why the Queen had asked him to inform the Prince of the outcome of his request rather than do it herself. He understood why she had been so unhappy and why she had refused his resignation. Her husband was not the man she thought he was. He was a volatile, violent, odious man who had wormed his way into her life through a veneer of charm. He was a viper, and was now dangerously placed in her household where Reddington was powerless to protect her.

* * *

Having previously thought to distance himself from the Queen and her intolerable husband, Reddington was now resolved to make himself as present as possible in her life in order that he might be there to protect her from the man he felt was not only unpleasent, but potentially dangerous. As such, when he received an invitation to the Royal Society’s annual dinner, he accepted knowing that, as patrons, the Queen and Prince Thomas would be guests of honour and he would be able to keep a watchful eye on the young Queen.

That evening she wore a very attractive deep purple gown that came off the shoulder in a mouth-watering curve across her bosom, the rich colour made all the more startling against her creamy skin. With a stunning emerald and diamond tiara set upon her head she looked every inch a Queen – beautiful, regal and elegant. He was at pains not to be seen staring at her, though he noted bitterly that other gentlemen at the table had no such compunction, and spent much of the evening gawping like school boys at the beautiful young Queen.

The Queen herself also did not pass the dinner well, chagrined by her husband’s disagreeable habit of cutting short her observations and making presumptuous statements to ladies and gentlemen of consequence.

“Of course, when the children are born, they will be educated in Germany. There is no finer education system” the Prince proclaimed smugly. “The English are too taken with the Arts and other such fanciful subjects. A prince must learn mathematics, engineering, science. He has no use for poetry.”

The guests seated near the Prince began to mutter and exchange glances at the Prince’s assertion, and the young Queen reddened with embarrassment. She was grateful when the Prime Minister spoke, his deep voice calming and authoritative.

“Sir, I quite agree that a curriculum should be varied, though I must inform you that it is a constitutional requirement that the heir to the British throne be educated in England, where possible. It is a custom that ensures they are fully appraised of the elements that are unique to the task of ruling the British people.”

Prince Thomas looked thunderous. “Is that so” he said tightly. “It seems to me that the British Constitution is in some need of reform. Indeed, your parliament as a whole wields entirely too much power.”

Reddington raised his eyebrows mildly. “King Louis IVI of France was of a similar opinion sir, until he was sent to the guillotine by his subjects.”

The young Queen quickly put her hand on the Prince’s arm in an attempt to prevent him from losing his temper in public.

“My dear, though it did not happen because none foresaw the tragic death of my brother, I feel I would have benefitted greatly had I myself been educated here. Besides, it will be most agreeable to have the children educated at home, do you not think? We will be able to spend more time with them” she reasoned gently.

Prince Thomas shook his head dismissively. “Naturally women find it difficult to let the children out of the nursery, but boys do not become men by being coddled by sentimental mothers.”

Unable to bear the conversation any further, the Queen rose from the table, and all the guests laid down their cutlery for none were permitted to continue eating once she had finished. As the guests retired to the lounge, she took some relaxation in several glasses of the postprandial sherry and conversation with Lady Clara, though her relief was to be short-lived.

Her attention was caught when she heard the Prime Minister’s unmistakable laugh from across the room, and she felt a stab of irrational jealousy that it was not she who had made him laugh so. Her jealously deepened when she observed that he was engaged in a deep and animated conversation with a smiling and very beautiful woman. She was older than the Queen, though Lord Melbourne was still surely this woman’s senior by some years. She was very tall with golden hair, and her bosom was noticeably more ample than the Queen’s own.

“Clara, do tell me – who is that lady conversing with the Prime Minister?” she enquired subtly.

Lady Clara followed the Queen’s gaze and nodded sagely. “That is Lady Cassandra Bianchi, ma’am. Her husband is Victor Bianchi, a gentleman of some fortune, so I hear. She was received at court by your father, though has rarely attended in recent years.”

“I see” the young Queen murmured. “And where is her husband tonight?”

“He is not in attendance, ma’am. I know not why.”

“Well, I wonder that she makes so free to flirt with the Prime Minister, especially if she is married” the Queen commented icily. “And how irregular for her to attend unaccompanied.”

Lady Clara looked hesitant, and Queen Elizabeth, sensing a story, fixed her with a determined stare.

“If there is something I should know, Lady Clara, I would invite you to declare it now.”

“Ma’am, it is said that the relationship between Lord Melbourne and Lady Cassandra is of an intimate nature” Lady Clara said uncomfortably.

The Queen’s expression hardened on hearing this, her eyebrows raised disapprovingly. “You are implying that a _criminal conversation_ * has taken place between them?”

“Yes ma’am, it is rumoured to be the case.”

“Honestly Clara, you should not give credence to such rumours. It is a truly wicked story with absolutely no basis” she said sharply. “I know Lord Melbourne to be of a scrupulously honest character and above reproach. I’d thank you not to repeat such a scandalous tale” she finished hotly.

Lady Clara looked troubled. “Do forgive me ma’am, but it is not the case that it has no basis. I saw Lady Cassandra carrying the Prime Minister’s handkerchief with my own eyes. It bears his monogram. What other reason should she have it on her person other than as a token of his affection?”

The young Queen felt a desolate pang inside as she heard this news. Her gaze fell again on the Prime Minister and Lady Cassandra, and she was dismayed to see that they were still conversing, the lady’s golden ringlets bouncing attractively around her shoulders as she spoke animatedly.

“You are not to repeat a word of this” she whispered faintly.

“Yes, ma’am” Lady Clara said solemnly. “I am sorry to have troubled Your Majesty, it was not my intention. I know that the Prime Minister has been a friend to you.”

The Queen swallowed, doing her best to conceal the tumult of emotion she felt, though beneath her elegant exterior her heart was gripped with a desolate pain and jealousy that threatened to consume her.

* * *

By the time the Queen and Prince Thomas returned to the palace from their evening out, the stony silence between them had grown oppressive.

“I think I shall retire early” Queen Elizabeth told him tightly as they entered their apartments. “I am quite exhausted after this evening’s event.”

“Yes, I am sure undermining me at every turn was quite fatiguing” the Prince said spitefully.

The young Queen looked up at him, her blue eyes round with dismay. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Do not play the innocent, Elizabeth” he said, rage simmering in his voice. “Your Lord Melbourne informs me that despite being husband to the Queen I am not to be named King Consort - an insufferable insult! Then, when I express a preference for _my_ children’s education, once again you and the Prime Minister conspire to deny my wishes and embarrass me. There is also the matter of the scandalous rumours regarding your relationship with him! I will not tolerate it!”

“That is utterly ridiculous” the Queen said, shaken. “There is no such relationship, and no such conspiracy. Lord Melbourne was merely informing you of the constitutional duty of the crown, something we all must abide by. And given that the children you speak of do not yet exist, it seems a rather precipitous conversation in any case.”

Prince Thomas’s expression darkened, his eyes cold and cruel. “And whose fault is that, hmmm? It seems you are regularly fatigued of late. Are you English women so frigid that you will not do your duty and produce an heir? Indeed, I do not believe for a moment that you have an illicit relationship with the Prime Minister simply because no man would be taken with a woman who is too cold and prissy to be of interest!”

The young Queen’s eyes widened in shock. “How can you address me in this impertinent manner? I am your Sovereign!”

“My _Sovereign_?” the Prince repeated, enraged.

He marched quickly towards her, his face twisted into a cruel grimace. She stepped back in alarm when he approached her, until her path was stopped by a heavy table behind her. She whimpered as he reached her and wrapped his fingers painfully around her wrist, his face so close to hers that she could feel his breath as he spoke.

“You are my wife, do you understand? My _wife_!” he spat.

She looked up at him speechlessly, trembling as he leaned over her, seething. “From now on you will treat me with respect” he hissed.

He proceeded to squeeze her wrist cruelly hard, stopping only when he had forced her to cry out in pain. Only then did he release her and march from the room, slamming the door behind him and leaving the young Queen trembling in shock.

* ‘Criminal conversation’ is a euphemism for adulterous sexual intercourse. It comes from the law which allowed a husband to seek legal damages from his wife's adulterous partner.


	17. A Criminal Conversation

The morning after the Royal Society dinner, Reddington received an urgent missive requesting his presence at the palace at his earliest convenience. He made his way there as soon as possible, concerned that something must be amiss for the Queen to have summoned him thus. When he entered her sitting room he found her dressed all in white, a navy blue sash tied around her small waist and an intricate bracelet adorning her wrist. She greeted him politely but did not smile.

“Lord Melbourne, thank you for coming. I realise this is not our scheduled time to meet, but I have a matter of business I felt could not be delayed” she said crisply.

“I was more than happy to make the journey, Your Majesty” he said genially. “How might I advise you?”

The young Queen lifted her chin a little haughtily. “I’m afraid to say that this time it is my unfortunate task to advise _you_ , Prime Minister” she said tightly.

Reddington frowned. “Indeed, ma’am?”

“Yes. I’m afraid I feel it is necessary to admonish you for behaviour that is quite unbecoming of a Prime Minister.”

Reddington raised his eyebrows, his tongue moving thoughtfully inside his lower lip as he processed her statement. “In that case please enlighten me so that I may correct the fault, for I am at a loss to know what behaviour of mine could have offended you, ma’am.”

“I am not offended” the young Queen said quickly. “I am merely concerned for your reputation, and the integrity of my court.”

Reddington pursed his lips and waited for her to elaborate; while she spoke genteelly, he could sense a girlish anger simmering beneath her prim exterior.

The Queen clasped her slender fingers neatly on her lap and stared at him icily. “Lord Melbourne, it has come to my attention that you are rumoured to have formed an illicit relationship with a married woman. Indeed, that a… a _criminal conversation_ has taken place between you. I invited you here to account for yourself.”

“Ma’am, I’m afraid I cannot account for myself, for I know not with whom I am supposed to have had such an encounter” Reddington replied evenly. “Perhaps you would care to elaborate.”

The young Queen reddened, her lips set in an agitated line. “I am disappointed, Lord Melbourne. I had hoped you would not compound the offence by being dishonest about it. I speak of your relationship with Lady Cassandra Bianchi.”

Reddington’s expression darkened. “I assure you, ma’am, that no such relationship exists between myself and Lady Cassandra” he said in a low growl. “Furthermore, I should have _hoped_ that I might have earned the benefit of the doubt, rather than to be so precipitously subjected to accusations of dishonesty.”

Queen Elizabeth drew herself up, her deep blue eyes glittering with anger. “She has been seen with a souvenir of your encounter, sir. Your handkerchief – the monogram is unmistakeable. It is utterly shameful of her to flaunt it, and appalling that she dare attend royal events to see you without her husband. Indeed I shall have her thrown out of court!”

“Elizabeth!” Reddington snapped, his eyes narrowing dangerously. In that moment the young Queen felt a frisson of fear slip down inside her; she knew now how his opponents in parliament must feel when they attempted to confront him.

“I gave Lady Cassandra my handkerchief for her relief when she was deeply distressed. Her husband is gravely ill, _that_ is why she is not often at court, and why when she does attend events, she is regrettably alone. My sympathy for her lamentable situation constitutes the extent of our involvement” he said, his tone dangerously quiet. “Her private circumstances are _none_ of your concern, but I have nevertheless felt it necessary to bring you into the confidence. I’ll not allow you to ruin a good woman’s reputation on a jealous _whim_.”

Queen Elizabeth’s eyes widened in shock at his tone, her cheeks reddening with indignation. “How dare you speak to me as though I were a child! I am your _Queen_!”

“I speak to you like a child because you are behaving like a child” Reddington growled, his grey eyes glittering darkly. “Most galling of all is that this base accusation stems from little more than a fit of jealousy, to which you are not entitled – you are _married_. I, on the other hand, am not spoken for. I’d thank you to remember that” he finished heatedly.

The young Queen’s lip had begun to tremble and she looked away, blinking away tears.

“Please forgive me, Your Majesty” Reddington said in a low voice, his anger abating. “I should not have spoken so.”

The Queen exhaled, shaking her head in silence. “You said nothing that is not true” she whispered eventually, her chin crumpling with shame. “It hurt me deeply to think that you had formed an attachment to another. You are correct that my anger was born of jealousy – I confess I find myself feeling quite possessive of you. And that is not fair to you. As you say, I am married” she said hollowly.

Reddington sighed. “I know too well the pain of seeing someone I love with another” he said quietly. “I would not wish it on you.”

The young Queen swallowed bravely then. “And I would not see you unhappy, Lord Melbourne. You cannot remain alone on my account. I must learn to accept the reality of our circumstances” she finished with a sad smile.

Reddington stared at her for a moment, his eyes creased sadly. “There will not be another. There _could_ not be another.”

“Then it seems we are both destined to be unhappy” Queen Elizabeth murmured, looking down and fiddling unconsciously with the bracelet she wore about her wrist.

She felt rather than saw the Prime Minister’s expression change, the atmosphere in the room suddenly charged. When she looked up he was standing over her, his eyes wide and thunderous.

“Take off your bracelet” he said, his deep voice deathly quiet.

“Excuse me?” she said, flustered.

“Your bracelet” he repeated, swallowing hard. “Take it off.”

Unable to think of an excuse, she simply obeyed, and watched his expression move subtly through anger, horror and grief as he observed the deep bruise that marred her skin where her husband had gripped her so cruelly the previous evening.

“The Prince is unhappy here and I have done little to ease the transition for him” the young Queen said quietly, not meeting the Prime Minister’s eye. “He deserves patience.”

“He deserves to be _hanged_ ” Reddington growled desolately. “He is a _blaggard_ so decidedly undeserving of your sympathy that my heart crumbles to hear it.”

“Elizabeth…” he began then, his chest heaving under his waistcoat. “I have done everything in my power to quell my feelings to nothing more than the utmost respect for you, and for your great office. I have struggled to do my duty to you and your family as I have always done. I have done that, only to see you marry someone who is so appallingly undeserving of your love and respect” he paused, shaking his head. “The courage you have shown, the fortitude, the grace… You deserve so much more. You ought to be loved like…”

“Like you love me” the young Queen finished softly. She stood then, and took his hands in hers, looking up at him earnestly.

Reddington swallowed, his lip trembling. “I have advised you, I have distanced myself from you and heaven forgive me I have scolded you, but by God I have loved you. I have _loved_ you.”

He closed his eyes as he felt her soft lips meet his, knowing that they both risked ruin, but unable to stop the tumultuous wave of feeling he had been harbouring from bursting out. He kissed her passionately, his hand cradling the back of her neck, and she threw her arms about him, meeting his passion fiercely.

“Elizabeth” he groaned, at once desperate to stop her from risking her reputation and praying that she would abandon all for him.

“The Prince is away on a hunting trip” the Queen breathed. “He will not return tonight.”

Reddington sighed roughly, kissing her lips, the delicate line of her jaw and her neck until she moaned softly, her bosom crushed against him as he embraced her.

“Come” she demanded breathily, gripping his hand and tugging him with her, leading him behind one of the secret panels in the wall as she had once done, pausing often to kiss him in the darkness as they moved down the corridor.

The time Reddington had spent concealing his feelings for the beautiful young Queen had only made his passion more ardent, and he felt as though he had been taken over by a demon or a muse. He returned her kisses most passionately, pressing her against the wall of the dark corridor, his hands caressing the bodice that lay over her breasts as he pushed himself against her like a rutting animal. If his behaviour was uncouth, she matched him so completely that in that moment he was sure that, far from committing any impropriety, their souls were merely seeking to join as they were destined to.

When they reached the Queen’s bedchamber, he wasted no time in tearing at her bodice and skirt as she eagerly pushed his jacket from his broad shoulders and pulled at the buttons on his waistcoat. Gone were the delicate sensibilities of their past; she was lust personified, her skin flushed and her sapphire eyes dark with passion. For his part, when he had stripped her down until she stood before him naked and wanton in nothing but her white silk stockings, his manhood strained so hard at his underthings that it pained him.

He stared down at her with unbridled lust, drinking in her lithe, sensual form and pausing to kiss her deeply before sweeping her into his arms and placing her reverently on the bed, making her gasp with exhilaration. He lavished kisses on her naked body, feasting on her and delighting in her cries of pleasure. He suckled her taught nipples and fondled her belly and bottom as she writhed beneath him.

His eyes hooded with desire, he peeled her silk stockings down, laying sweet kisses along her legs as he did so. He moved up slowly, nipping and licking her soft skin, and she gasped as his mouth found the secret place between her legs.

“Are you shocked, my dear Lizzie” he murmured as she moaned beneath his probing tongue.

“Shocked that you are able to make me feel such pleasure?” she breathed. “No, dearest Reddington Bear. I know I should feel shame, but oh!” she gasped, clutching his head. “Oh, I don’t!”

“You should never feel shame, sweet girl” he growled as he turned his tongue against her, causing her to cry out. “You are exquisite. Perfect in beauty, in pleasure… Come, my sweet girl… come for me…” he groaned, moaning in appreciation as he felt her wet, impossibly soft flesh begin to pulse under his lips, her little cries like music to his ears.

“Lie with me” she panted then, clutching at his shoulders, “for my soul has been crying out for you.”

“As has mine” he answered roughly, divesting himself of his underthings and coming up to lean over her, his grey eyes darkened with passion. She trembled a little under his gaze and he smiled reassuringly, his eyes crinkling in that kind, handsome way of his.

His mouth found hers then, kissing her ardently and reverently as she opened her slender legs for him, welcoming him inside her. He entered her with a single, powerful thrust that made her cry out in joy, her hips rising off the bed to meet him stroke for stroke as they loved one another utterly and completely. Together they climbed higher and higher with absolute abandon, until she scratched at his broad shoulders and cried out with the force of her pleasure as it took her. He found his release upon feeling the exquisite warmth of her orgasm around him, holding her closely and thrusting, pulsing repeatedly inside her until he was spent.

Breathing hard, he held her close, laying sweet kisses upon her forehead as she curled into his side with a contented sigh.

“You said I should not feel shame” she murmured quietly into his chest. “Is that your true belief? Even though I have been unfaithful to my husband?”

Reddington sighed and placed a tender kiss atop her dark tresses. “You are not at fault, dearest Lizzie. If you are looking to lay blame, then look no further than me. I have made you an adulteress, I who counselled you to marry another, I who in seeking the best for you, only brought you unhappiness” he told her, his voice low and rough.

She raised her head then, turning her sapphire gaze on him softly. “You did only what you thought was right and necessary to protect me. In truth I have felt unfaithful every day since my wedding day – as though I were unfaithful to _you_ , for you have my heart and always will.”

“Elizabeth” Reddington said gently, swallowing hard. “You must know that this cannot happen again. I could not bear to see you lower yourself to engage in an affair that will bring dishonour and deceit into your life – to know that it was I who was the cause of it.”

The young Queen squeezed her eyes shut, tears leaking out and dropping onto his chest.

“I know” she choked. “You are the most honest, honourable man in the land, and I too would not see you so debased by continuing criminal activity with another man’s wife. All must be as it was. I cannot remove the Prince and I cannot continue to make criminals of us both. These blessed hours must be enough for us” she finished with tearful smile.

“You must be protected from him” Reddington said with quiet conviction.

The young Queen sighed against his chest. “I intend to take a tour of the north, to visit some of the great families and become better acquainted with my country. The Prince may stay in London and mix in society as it pleases him. When I am returned I will make clear to him that his behaviour will not be tolerated. I’m sure the prospect of losing access to the royal purse will act as a deterrent.”

Reddington’s lip twitched in anger. “His behaviour towards you is more than intolerable – it is treason. If I were to instruct the Attorney General’s Office to begin proceedings against him he would likely hang - a fate that is far too good for him.”

Queen Elizabeth sighed and shook her head, nuzzling his broad shoulder. “You know full well that to hang a German Prince would cause an international incident of disastrous proportion. Germany may even declare war, a war which we cannot finance and would tarnish my reign irrevocably. Further, you would no doubt be called as a witness, which would lead to speculation as to our relationship that we can ill-afford. No. It is far better to weather this storm and handle it privately.”

“I would bear it all for you” Reddington told her quietly.

“I know you would, dearest Reddington Bear. But I am Queen, and the responsibility lies with me. I cannot undermine the monarchy and take Britain to war at the expense of my country and its people. I will handle my own affairs” she finished firmly.

Reddington looked down at her then, his eyes creased with affection and wonder. “You have grown so wise… so strong. I could not be more proud of you, my Lizzie.”

“I had a marvellous tutor” she murmured, leaning up to kiss him.

He closed his eyes as her lips met his, and kissed her passionately, reverently, and in the heavy knowledge that he could never do so again.


	18. Blessed News

While the Queen was away on her tour of the north, Reddington observed her odious husband with increasing concern. He was painfully indiscrete in his wife’s absence, openly flirting with the daughters of prominent members of society, and offering titles he had no power to honour. Although the young Queen was as strong and stubborn as any woman he had ever known, Reddington worried that she would find she was not able to control her husband, and that her attempts to do so might place her in danger. During her prolonged absence he grew most impatient to see her, though he knew that as soon as she returned to the palace, she would once more be within the wicked Prince’s grasp.

It was therefore with both delight and trepidation that he received a letter from the Queen informing him of her return, and requesting that he visit her at the palace the very next day. When he arrived for his audience with the young monarch he was shown into the water gardens by a footman, where he found her sitting reading beside an ornate stone fountain. She wore a dress of cream silk, the colour striking against her dark hair, her luxurious ringlets adorned with delicate floral clasps in the shape of primroses.

Reddington regarded her fondly, observing that she seemed quite in a world of her own, utterly absorbed in the book she held. He felt some regret that he must disturb her, though was rewarded with a smile when she looked up as he approached. Although her smile was radiant, he noticed that she seemed pale, and was suddenly anxious to hear how she was faring on her return to the palace.

“Lord Melbourne, welcome” she said, smiling softly.

“Your Majesty” he said with a bow. “I am most glad to see you are safely returned. But are you well?” he enquired, observing her pallor intently.

She pursed her full lips and looked out over the water garden with a sigh. “In truth I have been feeling a little out of sorts recently. I requested that you meet me here because I thought the fresh air would do me some good.”

“An excellent idea, ma’am” he said gently. “Perhaps we could take a turn about the garden?”

She looked up at him with a smile, her blue eyes sparkling. “I believe I should like that very much, Lord Melbourne.”

She stood and they walked in companionable silence down the stone stairs to the lower ponds, which featured a long rectangular pool bursting with lilies, glittering in the sunlight like the wings of angels fallen on water.

“Quite extraordinary, isn’t it” the Queen said wistfully as she stood observing the pool.

“I think I have never seen such beauty” he replied softly, and when she turned she saw that he regarded her, rather than the pool.

It brought a slight blush to her pale cheeks and she looked away. “I had thought the beauty of the northern counties to be unsurpassed, but it is a delight to be reminded that I have my own little piece of heaven here” she murmured.

“How did you find the north, ma’am?” Reddington enquired.

“In truth I have never met such a kind, generous people” the young Queen told him as she reminisced. “The land itself is extraordinary. At first glance it is rugged and barren – windswept and almost oppressive in its atmosphere. But the more time I spent there the more I grew to understand it. It is powerful yes, but the land cares for the people who care for it. I learned much during my stay.”

“I can see that” Reddington said in a low voice. “Your characterisation of the area is strikingly accurate.”

“You have been there?” the young Queen enquired with interest.

“Indeed ma’am, as a younger man, newly married. The rolling hills, the icy streams, extraordinary vistas… Bitter winters indeed, but in _spring…_ the greenery is so lush, vibrant… A garden of Eden” he finished nostalgically.

“Do you miss your wife terribly?” the young Queen asked softly.

Reddington paused, gazing out over the garden for a moment. “I do. But I endeavour not to dwell on what I once was, what I had… I am only grateful for the moments of happiness that I’ve had. Those moments must sustain me.”

“That must be my philosophy too” Queen Elizabeth said with a sad smile.

Reddington looked at her and thought he observed her eyes were shining with tears, but in that moment she turned to continue their promenade down the garden.

“Well Lord Melbourne, tell me. What intrigue has occurred during my absence? What trade deals have you struck, what political coups have you accomplished?”

Reddington twitched a smile. “You make me sound more like a pirate than a politician.”

“Yes indeed!” the young Queen said humorously. “You are captain of the great ship Westminster, and you sail the high seas in search of your quarry.”

The Prime Minister laughed heartily at that. “Ma’am, I assure you that any and all intrigue that has occurred has been undertaken solely in service of Your Majesty.”

“I am glad to hear it, Lord Melbourne” the Queen said, eying him mischievously.

“There one matter to which I should draw your attention, ma’am. Though the Chartist rebels whose lives you spared were exiled, their followers have grown in strength and numbers. They have registered themselves as a formal political organisation, and are said to be outlining a set of demands. This is likely to include the vote for all men no matter their circumstances, and a seat in the House.”

“Indeed? Well, I am pleased to hear that their methods of making their point have matured since I last heard of them. I should not like to be compelled to commute further death sentences.”

“Quite so, ma’am – they have indeed matured as a movement, helped in part by your benevolence in that matter.”

“I rather think you support their cause, Lord Melbourne” the Queen observed, looking at him curiously.

Reddington pursed his lips as he considered his answer. “One of the reasons I became a politician was because I believe in the right of our citizens to be represented in government. Is it right that we require those citizens to have wealth and power in order to earn a vote? Surely those who have the least power are the ones who most require a voice.”

The Queen paused then, swallowing and closing her eyes for a moment as though faint. “You have given me much to think on, Prime Minister” she breathed. “However I am sorry to say that I must now return indoors. I fear our walk, delightful though it was, has quite exhausted me.”

Reddington frowned in concern. “Of course, Your Majesty. We shall return at once – will you allow me to escort you” he said, offering her his arm.

She accepted gratefully, but they had only taken a few steps towards the palace when the young Queen faltered, her breathing quickening and her hand resting on her bodice above her waist.

“Ma’am, are you unwell?” Reddington asked, deeply troubled. “Should I fetch your physician?”

“I think-” she murmured, but she did not complete her sentence, for her eyes slipped shut and she swooned right beside him.

Instinctively Reddington caught her before she fell, gathering her slender form to him.

“Your Majesty!” he exclaimed urgently, cupping her face to rouse her, but she had fallen unconscious and her dark lashes were closed against her pale skin.

His jaw tightened with tension, he lifted her into his arms, her head cradled against his broad chest and her skirts gathered over his arm. His heart thundered with anxiety as he carried the unconscious young Queen up the stone steps and along the length of the garden until he reached the palace.

His extraordinary entrance was met with gasps from the waiting footmen and other servants, who rushed forward to help him as he laid his young charge gently down on a chaise.

“I’ll send for the doctor and some brandy at once, sir” one of the footman said while Reddington knelt down next to the young Queen, his face etched with concern.

“No brandy” he called out sharply, gazing down at her, taking in the softness of her features and her rounded bosom. “She is with child” he murmured to himself. “She is with _child_ ” he repeated, the wonder of it threatening to overwhelm him.

The doctor arrived hastily and the Queen was removed to her apartments to rest, while Reddington waited in one of the reception rooms for news of her progress. He was joined by other members of the court, an apprehensive silence falling over the room, save for the murmuring of a nervous lady whose repeated and ostentatious prayers for the Queen began to grate on his nerves as he waited anxiously for an update on the Queen’s condition. His temper was further tested when he saw that the Queen’s uncle the Duke of Cumberland had returned to court, his glee at the possibility that the Queen may be gravely ill barely disguised.

“A terrible shame that she be taken so badly ill” the Duke said disingenuously. “I’m afraid to say she is like her mother, and of a weak constitution.”

“She is stronger than you know” Reddington retorted in a growl menacing enough to silence the Duke. “She is stronger than even she knows.”

“Hear hear” one of the gentlemen present piped up, among general murmurs of approval from the assembled group.

Just then the door swung open and Prince Thomas entered the room, his expression jubilant and smug.

“Gentlemen, I am proud to announce that the Queen is with child! She will bear our child” he proclaimed, marching about the room in a vulgar fashion. “We will have a Prince of Wales! Our legacy is secure.”

The Duke of Cumberland’s lip curled in displeasure, while other members of the household congratulated the strutting Prince. Only Reddington remained anxious, disgusted by the Prince’s undignified display of indiscretion in announcing the young Queen’s condition to the assembled group, and desperate to have news of her.

“How does the Queen?” he enquired, forcing Prince Thomas to interrupt his unseemly crowing.

The Prince’s eyes narrowed. “Ah yes, Lord Melbourne” he said disdainfully. “I must thank you for coming to her aid. How fortunate it was that you were there… But then it seems you are often there.”

“The Queen?” Reddington asked again pointedly, ignoring the jibe.

Prince Thomas sniffed dismissively. “She is well enough. Naturally she is overjoyed to be bearing our son.”

“Or daughter” a lady chimed in. “A little Princess would also do the Queen proud.”

“It will be a son” the Prince shot back sharply. “A Prince of Wales. Now if you will excuse me, I must inform our German family without delay.”

The Prince left the room with a triumphant smile, and after a moment Reddington followed him, his expression grim. When he was sure he had the Prince alone in the corridor he called to him in an authoritative tone that demanded the younger man’s attention.

“Your Royal Highness. I would speak with you.”

The Prince turned impatiently, giving him an insincere smile. “Lord Melbourne. It seems that everywhere I turn, you are there.”

“ _Good_ ” Reddington replied in a low, menacing voice as he walked slowly towards him. “Because as far you’re concerned, I _am_ always there. I will always be standing in the shadows. Watching. To keep her safe.”

The Prince raised his eyebrows mockingly. “My English is not perfect, indeed it must be poorer than was my belief, because I have the impression that you are threatening me. I would not like to think that it is so.”

Reddington pursed his lips. “In which case you might prefer to receive it more as a lesson in British law. Given that you are so unaccustomed to our ways I feel it necessary to inform you that you risk a grievous transgression. To injure the Queen… to endanger her unborn child… These will be considered acts of _treason_ …. Treason in this country is punishable by death, and a most unseemly death at that.”

The Prince’s expression darkened, his eyes gleaming like a cornered rat. “How dare you speak to me with such impertinence!”

“You are not exempt from our laws, your Royal Highness” Reddington replied heavily. “I tell you this in faithful service of both the Queen… and yourself.”

The Prince scowled at him but Reddington held his petulant gaze evenly.

“Good day, sir” he finished, before turning away and stalking back down the corridor, leaving the Prince alone and fuming in the corridor.


	19. An Exquisite Truth

The weeks passed, and the young Queen’s belly grew plump and round with the royal child she was carrying. For the most part, both her husband, the odious Prince Thomas, and the business of government had left her alone. However, the Chartists’ movement had gained alarming pace during those weeks and months, their relentless campaign to give the common man the vote threatening the calm of the country that was otherwise enjoying an unprecedented time of prosperity and peace.

One morning the Queen sat at her dressing table, observing her reflection as her maid, Martha, finished adorning her hair.

“There! Beautiful ma’am, as always” the maid said approvingly.

“Thank you, Martha” the young Queen said with a wan smile. “I do not feel so very beautiful as I grow so large. I’m sure the people must think I have swelled like a balloon when they see me.”

“Not at all, ma’am!” Martha exclaimed. “I’m sure they see what I do, a beautiful Queen who is doing the nation a great service by producing an heir.”

“That is very sweet” the Queen said warmly. “Martha, may I ask if you are aware of the Chartist movement?”

The maid’s furtive look was enough to tell the Queen that the woman was indeed familiar with the group of reformers.

“I am, Your Majesty. It’s about a vote for the common man. Giving common folk a voice.”

“Indeed” Queen Elizabeth said, watching her maid intently. “And do I take it that you are a supporter of their demands? You have my permission to speak freely, Martha. You may trust that there will be no consequences for your giving me your honest opinion.”

Martha paused a little nervously, before nodding. “Yes, ma’am. I think that the common man should have a say in parliament. Maybe even one day a vote for women too. And I think a lot of people feel the same way. But please Your Majesty, you should know that they don’t want to reform the monarchy – they support you absolutely. They don’t mean any harm - they just want to be heard.”

“I’m glad to hear it” the young Queen said with a smile. “I rather think I should not like to be reformed.”

“It is said that the Prime Minister himself supports their cause, so I don’t think it can be a bad thing” the maid continued. “He’s as good and honest a man as there ever was. Well, for a politician” she added, causing the Queen’s lips to curve in amusement.

“If you had the vote, you would give it to him?” she asked her maid curiously.

“Why yes, ma’am, I would! And if I may continue to speak freely, Your Majesty, may I say how sorry I was that you weren’t allowed to marry him, for I’m sure you would be together if it were at all possible. And I dare tell your Majesty that there are many who feel the same way. The whole country knows you should be together” she blurted, her cheeks reddening a little. “I beg your pardon ma’am, I mean no offence to you or the Prince. But everyone knows it.”

The Queen paled on hearing this unexpected speech from her maid, and she swallowed hard, her hand resting on her rounded stomach.

“I cannot admonish you for such a forward comment, because I did indeed invite you to speak freely” she said, chastened. “However, both you and I must remember that I am a married woman. Sadly neither of us are permitted to show our appreciation for the Prime Minister at the ballot box, and therefore we may only admire him from a safe distance” she said crisply. “That will be all, thank you Martha”.

“Yes ma’am” the maid said with a curtsey, and an unmistakable look of sympathy in her eyes.

* * *

On Reddington’s next meeting with the Queen, he was surprised to be shown upstairs to a grand, private wing of the palace he was not acquainted with, and into a large room with huge windows. It was far more light and airy than the any of the other palace rooms he had seen, though at present the furniture was covered in dust sheets, leaving the purpose of the room unclear. The pregnant Queen was standing by one of the windows, her stomach swollen and round under a fetching pink dress. She turned when he entered, the glorious sunlight streaming in behind her and illuminating her beautiful features.

“Welcome, Prime Minister” she greeted him with a gentle smile.

“Your Majesty” he said, bowing. “You look… radiant.”

The young Queen smiled in pleasure at the compliment and rested her hands on the large bump beneath her skirts.

“Thank you, Lord Melbourne. As Queen of a great nation I feel I should be above personal vanity, however, between us, I find that I feel increasingly like a milk cow as the child grows.”

Reddington laughed affectionately, shaking his head. “Ma’am, in my experience, pregnancy only enhances a woman’s natural beauty.”

The Queen smiled bashfully, and for several moments they regarded one another in meaningful silence. In that moment Reddington was sure that while their relative positions in society made it impossible for them to speak freely, they were able to communicate the emotion they felt without the need to utter a single word.

“Are you well, Your Majesty?” Reddington enquired softly. “You have not had further fainting spells? The… _government_ …is of course most concerned with your wellbeing.”

“Then please allow me to assure the _government_ that I am well. I am most touched by their concern” the young Queen replied gently. “Lord Melbourne, do you like this room?” she said then.

Reddington was a little taken aback by the question, but answered honestly. “It is as lovely a room as I have ever seen, ma’am. The light is glorious…as though it were capable of illuminating even the darkest corners.”

The Queen smiled broadly at this, clearly pleased with his answer. “That’s it exactly. It conveys happiness, but more than that, it brings a feeling of hope. A faith in the future. I have decided that this will be the nursery. The new Prince or Princess will spend much of their time here, and… I wanted you to see it.”

The Queen paused then, her beautiful eyes fixed on Reddington and her hands resting on her rounded stomach. “You see… It is my dearest wish that the child has the benefit of knowing you. I desire you to be part of his or her life. Do you understand?” she asked softly, her eyes so clear and full of meaning that it stopped Reddington in his tracks.

He stilled, his lips parting a little in wonder as the full realisation of her meaning dawned. When he had first learned of the Queen’s pregnancy he had almost not dared to imagine it possible that he might father another child, let alone the first born child of the Queen of England, and had chased the notion away almost as soon as it had entered his mind. Yet here it was now, the great possibility come back to confront him, the hint she offered of a truth so exquisite that it took his breath clean away.

“I do, ma’am” he breathed eventually, swallowing hard. “And it would be my _honour_.”

The Queen nodded, visibly relieved. “I am so glad” she said softly, gazing at him as if committing his expression in that moment to memory.

Just then a footman entered with a letter for the Queen, and the moment was broken. She received it politely, although Reddington could tell she was irritated at the intrusion. She opened the letter and read its contents swiftly before tucking it away in a pocket. Although her expression barely altered, Reddington detected tension in her face that surely meant that all was not well.

“Bad news, Your Majesty?” he enquired gently.

The young Queen paused a moment before answering, her manner a little agitated.

“In my vanity I am tempted to tell you that all is well, but I will not deceive you. My husband is having an affair” she confessed tightly, her cheeks burning with shame.

Reddington’s expression darkened in anger on her behalf. “I am grieved to hear it, ma’am. Grieved and shocked.”

The Queen looked up at him then canting her head in admonishment. “Grieved you may be, Lord Melbourne, but shocked you are not. It is good of you to pretend that you did not know him to be of poor character, but we both know that you tried to warn me. You were utterly correct about him, and I failed to listen.”

“I take no pleasure in being correct” Reddington said quietly. “If I may ask, what proof have you of his infidelity?”

“Rumours of The Prince’s activities reached my ears some time ago, and they have now been confirmed. This letter is from one of my most loyal ladies, who is even now among a hunting party with Prince Thomas” the Queen said, holding up the paper in her hand. “She writes that she saw him enter the bedchamber of Lady Virginia Zanetakos. She is the daughter of a Greek nobleman, and, as I understand it, popular among young men at court. _Gina_ , she calls herself, can you imagine! Well, what have you to say, Lord Melbourne? Will you not admonish me for choosing such an odious man as my husband?”

“Absolutely not” Reddington told her with feeling. “I say only that he is a worthless scoundrel who is utterly undeserving of you. And further, perhaps, that the lady is not well named Virginia.”

The young Queen attempted to retain her regal composure, but to no avail; she laughed heartily, the girlish sound bringing a smile to the Prime Minister’s lips.

“You are wicked, Lord Melbourne!” she admonished him, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

“I have often been told so by the opposition, Your Majesty” Reddington replied, smiling gently.

“You will find no opposition here, Prime Minister” the Queen said with a sigh. “Only one who has been truly humbled. In truth I care nothing for the betrayal; I have long known that the Prince cares only for power and grandeur. He does not love me. Indeed I am not convinced he knows how to love. It is rather the humiliation that I am struggling with. I suppose it is almost traditional for a Queen to be cast aside for another when she is pregnant, though it is somehow harder to bear when the Queen is the sovereign, as I am.”

“Your insight does you credit, Your Majesty” Reddington told her gently. “I am confident that if and when members of court examine this situation, they will look upon the Prince with nothing but disgust, and upon their Queen with the utmost reverence and respect for her exceptional grace.”

“Thank you, Lord Melbourne. That is kind. You have been such a profound source of comfort and wisdom to me” she said, her voice quavering a little, as though holding back tears. “I am so glad that this child… that this child will know you” she finished, swallowing hard, pained by all that she was unable to say.

Reddington gently nodded his understanding. “I too am glad, ma’am. More glad than I can say” he added softly, his heart swelling with love and pride for the unborn royal child, and the Queen, whom he cherished with his whole heart.


	20. A Royal Birth

As the Queen’s time drew near, Reddington grew increasingly anxious for her wellbeing, deeply pained that he could only visit her when invited for his official audience with her as her Prime Minister. One afternoon he had just left the Commons Chamber in Westminster accompanied by his manservant when he was approached speedily by a red-faced messenger wearing royal livery, brandishing a letter. He opened the paper and quickly scanned the contents.

“The Queen is soon to give birth” he breathed. “I must go!”

“Shall I ready your carriage, sir?” his servant enquired.

“There’s no time - bring me my horse, and quickly!”

Within minutes Reddington was on the road, making his way in haste to the palace, where the Queen would give birth to a royal heir. It was customary that the Prime Minister and the leader of the opposition be present in the palace for the birth in order to ensure the legitimacy of the royal baby, yet that was not why Reddington was so overcome. His only care was for the safety of the girl he cherished, and her child.

He arrived somewhat breathless in the ante chamber of the Queen’s apartments, followed by the Duke of Wellington who arrived not long afterwards. They were met by several of the Queen’s doctors who stood murmuring with one another, their faces grave.

“How does the Queen?” Reddington enquired urgently.

“She has laboured long, sir” one replied shaking his head. “It has not been an easy process, though I think her moment has come. Dr Hearst and Prince Thomas are with her now – it shouldn’t be long.”

Reddington nodded and began to pace distractedly, his ears pained to hear the muffled sounds of screams from the sealed chamber where she lay. He paused his nervous walking only when he felt eyes on him, and looked up to see the Duke of Wellington observing him shrewdly from over the bridge of his imperial nose.

“Take heart, Melbourne” he murmured. “The Queen is a healthy young woman. There’s no reason why she may not be delivered safely.”

At that moment, Prince Thomas appeared at the door, his expression furious, the sound of the Queen’s cries echoing behind him.

“How does her Majesty?” Reddington asked desperately.

“She asks for _you_ , Lord Melbourne” the Prince hissed. “She bade me fetch you, as though I were no more than a servant! It is utterly scandalous! He should not be allowed in my wife’s chamber. Indeed, I forbid it!”

Reddington’s expression darkened. Barely able to control himself, he was about to unleash the depth of his anger and concern, to vow that no one could prevent him from being with her if she needed him, when the Duke of Wellington stepped in.

“Your Royal Highness” he said imperiously. “I know not how such affairs are conducted in Germany, but I assure you it is quite right and customary that the Queen should speak with her Prime Minister when undertaking as dangerous an endeavour as childbirth. Lord Melbourne will require instructions from her Majesty in the event that she be indisposed following the birth. You cannot forbid him to enter if the Queen has commanded it.”

Reddington nodded gratefully to Wellington and strode past the fuming Prince, his thoughts only of being with the young Queen in her time of need. He found her lying in a tangle of sheets, her hair loose and face streaked with tears. She reached for him impulsively the moment she saw him and he could do nothing but dash to her side, taking her hand in his.

“You are here” she murmured.

“Yes, I am here” he answered in a low voice. “Always.”

“I cannot do it” she breathed, her voice catching in her throat. “It wasn’t supposed to be this way-”

“You _can_ ” Reddington said firmly, gripping her hand. “You are strong, Elizabeth. So so strong.”

The young Queen began to moan as another contraction took her, and the physician strode over to the bed.

“One last push ma’am, and we will have a royal child.”

Reddington smiled encouragingly at her and she cried out, straining for all she was worth, gripping his hand fit to break bones. She gasped as the air was filled with the sound of little cries, and Reddington laughed with relief and wonder, his eyes wet as the physician held a beautiful, pink, squalling bundle aloft.

“Congratulations, Your Majesty” the physician said. “You have a healthy princess.”

“A Princess Royal” the young Queen breathed as the baby was wrapped and placed in her arms. “I will give her the title my father gave to me. Princess Royal.”

“What will you name her?” Reddington asked gently, his eyes glistening with joyful tears.

The Queen turned to look at him, her eyes wet but smiling. “Agnes. After Papa’s mother.”

“Princess Agnes” Reddington said reverently, smiling down at the tiny babe and her beautiful mother.

At that moment, the physician cleared his throat. “Ma’am, perhaps we should inform the Prince?” he said tactfully.

The Queen reddened slightly. “Yes of course. Could you?” she asked, looking apologetically up at Reddington.

The Prime Minister nodded, for he knew it was his duty to inform not only the Prince, but the Duke of Wellington and the rest of the country of the royal birth.

“Congratulations, ma’am” he said quietly, staring affectionately down at the young Queen and her child, before tearing himself away to do his duty.

When he entered the ante chamber where the Prince, the Duke of Wellington and the rest of the Queen’s doctors were waiting, he composed himself before making the announcement.

“I am delighted to inform you that the Queen has been safely delivered of a girl. Princess Agnes, to be titled Princess Royal.”

Sighs of relief went through the assembled company, however Prince Thomas’s sour expression did not improve on hearing the news.

“A Princess” he said tightly, unable to hide his disappointment. “And strangely named.”

Reddington regarded him coldly. “The Queen has named the Princess after her grandmother, Lady Agnes of Hanover.”

“Quite so” said the Duke of Wellington. “It is a very fine choice for the Princess. Lady Agnes was a great lady.”

“Indeed” the Prince responded in a clipped tone. “Well, if you’ll excuse me gentlemen, I must go to congratulate my wife.”

He entered the Queen’s chambers followed by the rest of her doctors, leaving Reddington and the Duke of Wellington alone.

Reddington turned to the Duke with a tight smile. “Your Grace, I think we are both aware that it is in fact not at all customary for the Prime Minister to attend the Queen for her delivery. I owe you a great debt of thanks.”

The Duke nodded graciously. “Despite what many may think, I am not entirely devoid of all sentiment. You’re a good man, Melbourne. A Whig, but still a good man. However, let me be perfectly clear. My first duty is to the Queen, to protect her from scandal, and that, Lord Melbourne, is where your duty should also lie” he finished pointedly, before taking his leave with a tip of his hat.

Reddington nodded wordlessly and sat alone in the ante chamber, his tired brain filled with visions of his precious Queen and her beautiful little daughter.

* * *

In the days that followed, Reddington was troubled by news that the Queen was not receiving visitors due to ill-health following childbirth. When he finally received an invitation for an audience with her he made haste to palace, anxious to see for himself how she fared. When he entered the Queen’s sitting room he immediately scanned her for signs of ill health, and his anxiety was not abated by what he saw. She was deathly pale, her skin almost luminescent against her dark hair and the deep blue dress that she wore. It gave her an appearance of deathly beauty that put him in mind of tragic heroines such as the Lady of Shallot floating among the river flowers, or Juliet after plunging the dagger into her heart.

“Lord Melbourne” she greeted him quietly. “I am pleased to see you.”

“And I you, Your Majesty” he said gently, “though I can see that reports of your ill-health following childbirth have not been exaggerated. I feel you must take longer to recover before our meetings resume.”

“I have been away from my duties long enough” the young Queen replied, shaking her head. “I am sure it is quite normal to feel a little weak for some time after giving birth.”

Reddington frowned. “Forgive me, ma’am, but I must register my concern. Your presentation does not appear typical of a healthy woman a week post-childbirth. What says Dr Hearst?”

“I am grateful for your concern, Lord Melbourne, but you are not my physician. You are my Prime Minister. Therefore perhaps we could address the business at hand” she said with gentle firmness.

Reddington pursed his lips in frustration, but there was nothing he could do to help her – she was the Queen, and had reminded him that it was not his place.

“Of course, Your Majesty” he said tightly. “The first order of business now that Princess Agnes has been born will be for you to declare her your rightful heir, if that is your intention.”

“Surely she is automatically considered the heir to the throne” the young Queen queried.

“Yes ma’am, but the law still requires that you name her as your heir, much as a gentleman will name his heir in his will.”

“I see” the Queen said slowly. “In that case, may I enquire as to whether there could be any legal impediments to my naming her as heir?”

Reddington’s lip twitched. “I cannot imagine a circumstance where any would apply, ma’am.”

The young Queen looked up at him them, drawing her lower lip nervously between her teeth. “I only wonder, given my Uncle’s continued interest in the throne, whether the Princess’s right of succession might be undermined by any claims as to her… parentage.”

Reddington nodded his understanding, looking tenderly down at the young Queen who sat staring up at him, her blue eyes wide with concern.

“You are the Queen, and she is your child, ma’am. If you wish to name her as your heir, that is all that matters” he said softly.

“That is a great comfort” the Queen murmured. “Let it be done without delay.”

“I have the papers here for you to sign, Your Majesty” Reddington continued a little hoarsely. “If I may.”

The Queen nodded and he approached her, holding out the document and handing her a pen. He noted that her hand shook as she signed the paper, and up close he could see her forehead glistening with fever.

“Your Majesty, you are not well-” he began urgently.

The pen slipped from her hand and she fell back on the cushions, her eyes glazed and blinking feverishly.

“ _Elizabeth_ ” Reddington breathed, and instinctively knelt over her, feeling her forehead and cupping her cheek to rouse her. “You’re burning up” he rumbled, his voice low and anxious. “I will send immediately for the doctor.”

“You there!” he shouted, making quickly for the door and rousing the footman who stood outside. “The Queen is taken very ill, you must send for her physician at once!”

Once the doctor had been sent for, he returned to her side, taking her limp hand in his and looking down at her with an expression of naked concern. She looked up at him, her breathing shallow.

“You were right” she breathed, swallowing. “Perhaps I am not well. You were right about so many things.”

“Do not trouble yourself” he said gently, his eyes fixed on hers. “We shall get you well, that is my only concern.”

He felt her frail hand grip his then, her fingers pressed urgently into his palm as she fought unconsciousness.

“Agnes” she whispered, trying to focus hard on his face. “Look after her like she is your own – like she is your _own_ ” she repeated meaningfully.

Reddington’s lip began to tremble as he held her hand fiercely. “I will. And so will _you_. You’re going to be well. You will be well.”

He felt her grip on him lessen, and her lips try to form words as she lost consciousness.

“Raymond… I do love…”

Her eyes slipped shut then, and he stayed by her side until the doctor arrived, and she was taken out of his reach.

* * *

Reddington could do nothing in the days that followed, other than pace in a state of utter consternation. He received regular updates from the palace, each bearing worse news than the one before. She had developed a serious post-partum infection, a complication of childbirth that he knew had taken many women from the world, including her namesake, Queen Elizabeth of York. He barely ate or slept, his face shadowy and lined with worry.

On the fourth day he received an urgent request from the Queen’s physician to visit the palace, and with a heavy heart he made his way there and up the stairs to the Queen’s apartments. He was admitted to the ante chamber along with Prince Thomas and the Duke of Wellington, where the doctor met with them, his expression grave.

“Gentlemen, I have called you here because I felt it was my duty to inform you. The fever has taken a very serious a hold upon Her Majesty. I am doing everything in my power to save her, however I must warn you. Gentlemen, the Queen may not last the night. You must prepare yourselves.”

For several moments there was complete silence in the chamber, though Reddington would not have heard a single word had it been uttered. He felt a cold numbness creep over him, and a longing only to see her, to hold her while she was still in the world. He was not given to despair, despite his tragic history, though he thought now that it would surely be impossible for any being to survive in the world carrying such grief as her loss would bring.

The silence was broken by Prince Thomas, who addressed not the doctor, but him.

“Lord Melbourne. If Princess Agnes is to become Queen when she is less than two weeks old, she will require a guardian to act as regent until such time as she is prepared to rule herself. It seems prudent that I be named as regent immediately.”

The shock and anger that went through Reddington at the Prince’s ill-timed and callous words left him momentarily speechless, and he was grateful when the Duke of Wellington stepped in.

“Your Royal Highness. May I first say that I am more sorry than I can express that your wife is so gravely ill” he said pointedly. “We will pray for her recovery with every breath that we have. On the matter of the regency, in this country a regent must be approved by parliament, and therefore we can make no comment at this time as to whether Your Royal Highness will be named regent. We will of course take it to the house as a matter of urgency, and inform Your Royal Highness as to the outcome.”

“ _Insufferable_ bureaucracy!” the Prince snapped. “I am the Princess’s father! I will be regent! You cannot stop me this time, Melbourne” he hissed, marching by the silent Prime Minister and out of the room.

Reddington felt the Duke’s hand come to rest gently on his shoulder. “He may be an appalling character, but I fear he is right on this. It will be difficult to argue that the father of the future queen should not act as regent, even though he is a foreigner.”

Reddington looked at him, his eyes red-rimmed. “Then let us pray for a miracle” he said, swallowing.

The Duke nodded and patted his shoulder before departing with the doctor, leaving Reddington alone. He stood and stared at the closed double doors that led to the Queen’s bedchamber, aware that there was currently no one there but him. Overcome by a need to see her, he quietly opened the door and slipped inside, silently closing the door behind him.

The room was dimly lit, with a feverish atmosphere, the only sound the faint gasp of air as she continued to draw breath. As he approached the bed, his lower lip began to tremble at the sight that met him. Her beautiful eyes were closed and complexion was ghostly, her dark hair loose and damp with fever. Her hand lay limply atop the coverlet, and without any consideration of being caught, he fell on his knees at her bedside, taking her hand in his. Shaking, he bent his head to kiss her slender fingers and found he could not let go, his lips trembling against her. Then he did something he had not done in many, many years. He closed his eyes, and began to pray.

“God” he murmured in a low rasp. “I thought that I had lost my faith. I thought you cruel. I have not honoured you because you have not honoured me. You took my wife. My little girl… Do not take her too” he pleaded with a rough sob. “I beg you. Do not take her. My sweet… my Lizzie.”

He kissed her hand again and raised it to his cheek, closing his eyes as if imagining her caressing his face once again.

“Come on, Lizzie. Please don’t go” he whispered. “Please…Don’t go.”


	21. Deliverance

That night Reddington stayed by the Queen’s bedside, unable to tear himself away, unable to fathom losing a single minute with her if these were to be her last moments on earth. Her beautiful face was deathly white and her breathing so faint that on occasion Reddington held his own breath so as to hear her better, clinging to the sign that she was still with him. Prince Thomas did not show himself again that night, and that he did not visit the Queen on her deathbed was only another sign to Reddington that he was the most worthless blaggard on earth. Still, in those dark hours he was grateful for it, relieved that his last hours with his beloved Queen were undisturbed save by her personal physician.

Dr Hearst revealed himself to be a kind man who did not comment at all on the Prime Minister’s presence in the Queen’s bedchamber and his obvious attachment to her. Instead he only sat quietly away in a corner, and allowed Reddington to sit alone by her bedside and hold her hand, approaching only occasionally to check the Queen’s pulse, and once to offer Reddington some medicinal brandy, which he accepted gratefully.

It was first light when Reddington awoke with a start, horrified on realising that he had fallen asleep in his chair beside the Queen’s bed. His gaze flew to her, terrified of what he might see, that she would have made her ascension to heaven that night while he slumbered.

He choked a gasp of relief when he saw that her beautiful blue eyes were open and she was smiling at him.

“Reddington Bear” she whispered with a sleepy smile.

“Oh dear God. Elizabeth. Elizabeth” he rasped, grasping her hand tightly in his, his eyes wet.

“Doctor!” he said urgently then, summoning the physician from where he slept in his chair in the corner.

Doctor Hearst awoke with a jump and rushed to the bed, taking the Queen’s pulse and laying the back of his hand upon her forehead. Reddington looked on anxiously, and his heart soared when he saw a smile form on the doctor’s lips.

“The fever has broken! I believe you are out of danger, Your Majesty” he said gently. “I think I speak for us all when I say how joyous a day this is. You have been returned to us and to the country - though it is essential that you get absolute rest.”

“I do not think that I could do otherwise” the young Queen said with a tired smile, and the men smiled in relief.

“Princess Agnes will be delighted to see her mother” Reddington said warmly.

“The Princess” the Queen repeated, her face etched with concern. “How is my little girl?”

“Princess Agnes is thriving, Your Majesty” Reddington reassured her. “Though she will be all the better for seeing her mother.”

“And I will be all the better for seeing her” the Queen said determinedly, bringing a smile to Reddington’s face.

He noted that she had not enquired as to the whereabouts of her husband Prince Thomas, and though he knew that he should inform the Prince immediately that the Queen was out of danger, he could hardly bear to tear himself away from her bedside to do so. They spoke some more, as though both were aware of how close they had come to losing one another, until eventually the Queen’s doctor insisted that Reddington leave her alone to rest.

He exited her chamber with a lightened heart, looking forward to telling the Duke of Wellington, the nation, and even the Prince that God had seen fit to spare the Queen, that she had been delivered safely back to them to rule in grace and honour.

* * *

When Reddington received a letter from the Queen to say that she was much improved and ready to begin their audiences again, he was filled with relief and happiness at the prospect of seeing her. Now, as he entered her private sitting room, he was overcome with joy at the scene that met him. Not only was the Queen looking radiantly healthy, but, to his utter delight, she was holding her little daughter, the infant Princess’s soft cooing like music to his ears.

He was so affected that he stood motionless in reverent silence, unable to do anything but stare, his lips parted in wonder. The young Queen’s cheeks had a delicate pink glow, her dress of white and embroidered pink flowers making her look as beautiful and healthy as a milk maid. The little babe in her arms wore a long, fine white embroidered dress, wrapped about with a lace shawl that her tiny fingers explored curiously. It was such a perfect vision that in that moment he dared not move, desperate as he was for it to stay that way, to commit it to his memory.

The Queen smiled broadly at him, tilting her head in gentle amusement at his speechlessness.

“You may come closer, Lord Melbourne” she said softly. “We are very glad to see you.”

“And I am glad to see you both, Your Majesty” he said quietly as he approached. “More glad than I can say” he said, bowing reverently to the Queen and the little Princess.

The Queen gazed down lovingly at the infant in her arms, rocking her gently. “I thought you might like to see her” she said softly, turning her gaze back to the Prime Minister.

“I am most grateful, Your Majesty” Reddington breathed. “I have wanted so much just to see her” he said wistfully, his voice tinged with longing.

“Would you like to hold her?” the Queen asked with a gentle smile.

Reddington swallowed and nodded. “I would like that very much, ma’am” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion.

The Queen rose from her seat and gently laid the infant Princess in Reddington’s waiting arms. As he stared down at the tiny girl he was met with a pair of bright blue eyes that he recognised instantly as her mother’s, looking up at him appraisingly.

“She is beautiful. Utterly perfect” he breathed, his eyes glistening.

“She is quite transfixed by you!” the Queen observed, laughing softly.

“I could stare at her forever” he murmured. “She has your eyes.”

“I feel she has gifts from both her parents” the Queen pronounced, causing Reddington to smile inwardly.

He bent down and laid a gentle kiss upon the child’s forehead before handing her back to her mother.

“I could not be more pleased with her” the Queen said fondly.

“And the Prince?” Reddington enquired quietly. “Is he pleased with her?”

“I wish I could say that he was” the young Queen sighed. “Yet sadly his opinion is only that it is most unfortunate I did not have a son. In his eyes I have failed to produce a worthy heir.”

Reddington had to suppress a growl of anger as he heard this. “There is not a sensible subject in your empire that could find the Princess wanting, your Majesty” he said in a hard tone.

“Quite” the Queen agreed firmly. “Though I am afraid to say there is one respect in which he does not find her wanting… Lord Melbourne my husband has already begun to entertain petitions to betroth Princess Agnes in the hope of making an advantageous match. As if this was not grievous enough, he has expressed particular interest in betrothing her to his cousin in Germany, Prince Karl, who is several years my husband’s senior, and by all accounts a cruel man.”

Reddington’s expression darkened, his jaw set with tension. “It cannot be allowed to happen!” he said urgently.

“And it shall not be” the Queen answered firmly. “I have made it perfectly clear that I will not entertain the notion, though I make you aware as…. as Prime Minister… so that Parliament may know my wishes on this matter.”

“Ma’am, I can assure you that Parliament would block any attempt to betroth the Princess to a German Prince, especially one considered an unsuitable match. She must be able to choose her fate” he added softly, in a gentle plea to the Queen.

The young Queen regarded him sadly then, with longing in her eyes. “I will do everything in my power to ensure that she is happy, Lord Melbourne… that she has the freedom to choose. That she has the freedom that I never had.”

Reddington nodded, his eyes creasing with a sad smile. “Your Majesty, may I say, as your Prime Minister, on behalf of your Parliament and your country, how very grateful we are that you have recovered. That we have every faith in you as the leader of our great nation. That, despite your tender years, you are a mother not just to the Princess, but to a nation – a nation that adores you.”

The Queen smiled fondly at him. “Thank you, Prime Minister. That is most kind. I feel I should embrace my deliverance as a second chance. I want to serve my people and my daughter to the utmost of my abilities, and fill every moment with as much life as I can. I am tired of being shut indoors. I believe I shall start with our next meeting” she said firmly.

Reddington raised his eyebrows with a smile. “Ma’am?”

“We shall go for a ride, Prime Minister” she told him with a mischievous smile. “Queen and Prime Minister on horseback, proudly surveying their domain.”

Reddington chuckled at the image she conjured up. “In that case I shall don my riding boots gladly, Your Majesty.”

* * *

At the appointed time, Reddington met the Queen at the entrance to the great wooded park behind the Palace, and could not help but be impressed by her fine figure as she sat side-saddle on her chestnut mare. Her riding outfit was a deep blue dress and jacket, trimmed with luxurious black brocade and cinched artfully at the waist, accentuating her slender curves. She wore a dainty top hat adorned with silk flowers and feathers, completing the look. She smiled at him as he admired her, his pleasant reflection only broken by his own horse as it stomped impatiently on the grass, eager to be exercised.

“You are most welcome, Lord Melbourne” the Queen greeted him fondly. “I hope you are prepared for our little outing.”

“I am delighted at the prospect ma’am, as is Sir James” he said, patting his handsome thoroughbred. “The poor beast does not get enough exercise and is growing round in the middle like his master.”

“Nonsense” the young Queen said laughing. “Though it is good for us all to be outdoors. It is so pleasant in the park at this time of year, and the palace is a little… crowded… this morning.”

“The Prince is at home” Reddington surmised gently.

“He is” the Queen confirmed as they set off into the park. “His manner has been so cold since the Princess was born. I thought perhaps having a child in the nursery would soften him, but it appears not. Still, he spends much of his time away with his garish hunting parties and his mistress – _mistresses_ , in fact, for I believe he has taken another.”

“I am pained to hear it, Your Majesty” Reddington said, his jaw set with anger and frustration on the Queen’s behalf.

“In all honesty, I am grateful that his time is occupied elsewhere” she told him with a wan smile as they made their way through an avenue of golden trees. “Though this latest is particularly embarrassing. Her name is Lucy Brookes and she is of low birth and rather indiscrete. My maid tells me that she came to the Palace for an unsolicited visit and had to be put out by a footman like a stray cat.”

She spoke humorously, though Reddington could see she was putting up a brave front to hide her humiliation and his blood boiled at the scoundrel Prince who caused her such pain.

“There are ways and means of bringing the Prince into line” he told the young Queen soberly. “Parliament has the power to intervene on your behalf. Say the word, ma’am, and I will bring the full weight of British constitutional power crashing down on the insolent blaggard like an _anvil_.”

The Queen shook her head with a sigh. “I know you would do everything in your power to protect my honour and for that I am grateful. But in truth it is better this way. I enjoy his frequent absences as time I may spend attending to affairs of state and being with my darling girl.”

“Princess Agnes is the pride and joy of the country, ma’am” Reddington said fondly.

“And of the country’s Prime Minister” the Queen said, giving him a wry smile. “Do not think that I am unaware of the lavish gifts that arrive at the palace almost daily for the Princess, though she is but a baby. You will spoil her.”

Reddington laughed sheepishly. “I find that in my advancing years I am entirely too grown up reasonably justify the purchase of toys, though a young person who has much ahead of her might find some pleasure in them. And what Princess does not require frequent additions to her wardrobe and jewellery box? Really, she is assisting me in providing an outlet for my more frivolous tendencies.”

The Queen smiled at him fondly. “You are many things, Prime Minister, but frivolous is not one of them. I know that you have been shielding me from many matters during my illness. I am grateful, but I would ask that you appraise me of matters that require my attention. I know that a country does not cease to run in the absence of its sovereign.”

The Prime Minister nodded to her with a gentle smile as their horses walked under the leafy branches of the park trees.

“There is one particular matter that it would be prudent to bring to your attention, ma’am. The city’s silk weavers, cloth traders and haberdashers are experiencing severe hardship due to recent trade laws with France. Parliament has introduced legislation to make trade with France easier, but as a result, English tradespeople are losing business to the French, who offer inferior wares at lower prices.”

“That is indeed unfortunate” the Queen said, concerned. “Could you not provide a subsidy for them of some kind, or a preferential tax rate perhaps?”

Reddington shook his head. “Sadly it is not feasible for parliament to interfere at present for fear of fundamentally undermining our recent trade deal. But Your Majesty may have more power than I in this matter” he said with a small smile.

“How so?” the Queen asked, intrigued.

“It has not escaped the notice of even an old man such as myself that Your Majesty’s choice of cloth and fashions are of great interest and influence in the country. I am sure that a well-placed signal from the much feted Queen of England that her preference is for English silks and craftsmanship would do wonders for the situation.”

“You are not old, Lord Melbourne. And yes of course, if you believe it would help” the Queen said solicitously. “Perhaps I could hold a ball at the palace, and encourage the guests to wear English silk – a costume ball would be just the thing! Then they would be compelled to buy cloth for new outfits, which would give an immediate boost to the silk weavers as well as setting the trend.”

“A truly inspired notion, ma’am” Reddington said with a conspiratorial smile. “And what might the theme of this costume ball be? I only ask so that on the off-chance I receive an invitation to such an illustrious event, I might be adequately prepared.”

“Honestly Prime Minister, you know full well that you shall be our most honoured guest” Queen Elizabeth told him affectionately. “As for the theme, something seasonal, naturally… A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

Reddington laughed happily at the suggestion, his eyes dancing with mirth. “Wonderful. Mischief and magic, fairies and forest creatures… I shall look forward to it with the utmost anticipation.”

“As shall I” the young Queen said enthusiastically. “I yearn to dance, it has been entirely too long since my confinement. I want to show the world I am restored to full health and vigour.”

“There are none who could doubt it, ma’am” Reddington told her gently.

The young Queen regarded him then from atop her horse, a sly smile forming on her lips. “Perhaps I might begin now… Race you to the old oak tree!” she cried then, digging her heels into her horse’s flank and taking off at a gallop.

Reddington laughed affectionately to himself and took off after her, spurring his horse onwards across the park. She looked back and shrieked with exhilaration as she saw that he was gaining on her, her childish abandon reminding him fondly of the days when she was just a precocious little princess without a care in the world.

He reached the grand old tree a few moments after her, the Queen’s light weight having given her the upper hand. She laughed triumphantly when he arrived, her cheeks flushed from the exercise and her sapphire eyes sparkling.

“Congratulations ma’am” he puffed as he attempted to catch his breath. “I think it fair to say that you are as full of health and vigour as you ever were… And lovelier still” he finished softly, his grey eyes gazing lovingly at her.

She smiled gently back at him, and for a moment the only sound was of their quickened breathing and the breeze rippling through the leaves of the giant oak that stood above them.

“I love this tree with my whole heart” the young Queen said quietly then, gazing at Reddington. “It’s been there my entire life, delighting me, sheltering me… Strong and steadfast - weathering every storm.”

“It will always be there” Reddington told her in a low voice, his eyes still fixed on her.

The Queen swallowed and nodded, before spurring her horse to walk on back to the palace, her Prime Minister riding tall at her side.


	22. The Fox and the Fairy

As the evening of the great Midsummer Night’s Dream costume ball arrived, Queen Elizabeth regarded herself in the mirror, a small smile on her lips. Although many would expect her to go as the great Queen Hippolyta, she had taken an unexpected and delightful route, commissioning a beautiful fairy costume. Her skirts were of the lightest, silvery silk gauze adorned with silk flowers, and she wore her hair daringly loose, flowing about her shoulders and decorated with further fine silk flowers rather than her usual tiara. Her costume was completed with gossamer wings and a mask that looked like the silvery skeletons of leaves, her startling blue eyes and full lips providing the only clue as to her identity.

As she descended to the merriment of the ball she entered stealthily and without fanfare, enjoying the anonymity that her costume afforded her. The ball rooms were a sight to behold, decorated with hanging, glistening branches evoking an enchanted forest. Her guests had done the silk-weavers’ cause justice, their costumes delighting her as she moved through the crowd. She paused to admire the scene before her, laughing and clapping with delight as she saw a red-faced man pass by dressed as the ass, Bottom.

She mingled anonymously, enjoying the champagne and laughter, feeling as carefree as she ever had now that none she spoke to knew that she was the Queen. After a while a tall gentleman approached her dressed as King Theseus, a golden crown on his head. Although he wore a gold mask, she knew immediately that it was Prince Thomas, recognising his thin lips and arrogant gait. He approached her with a suave smile, his eyes skimming over her fairy dress.

“That is a very fine costume indeed” he told her appreciatively. “I find myself quite enchanted by your fairy magic.”

Queen Elizabeth was surprised at her husband’s attentions, but smiled graciously, pleased that even he could not help but admire her costume. She was about to respond when he leaned forward and murmured in her ear.

“Perhaps you might spirit me away to a private room where we can frolic without the risk of being caught by my shrew of a wife” he said, stroking her shoulder flirtatiously.

The Queen gasped in pain and abhorrence as she realised that her husband had not recognised her, and believed he was flirting with another woman entirely. She turned without a word and left him where he stood, a look of confusion on his face. She walked through the crowds as far away from him as she could get, before pausing by a grand mantlepiece to gather herself.

She took a glass of champagne from a footman and drank deep, tears of hurt and humiliation stinging her eyes. Not only did her husband continue to have affairs, but he carried on his outrageous behaviour in the palace walls, insulting her in her own home. She was so preoccupied that she did not see the man dressed as a fox approaching her until he was at her side.

“Good evening, Your Majesty” he said quietly. “You look utterly enchanting.”

The young Queen looked up and smiled warmly, recognising her beloved Prime Minister straight away. “Good evening, Mr Fox. How handsome you look. Handsome, and perhaps a little dangerous.”

“Indeed ma’am, you must keep your chickens locked away” he replied, a glint of amusement in his eyes beneath his fox mask.

The Queen laughed in pleasure at their exchange. “How did you know it was me?” she asked then, curious. “I made every effort to disguise myself.

“Would it be too scandalous to say that I know the turn of your throat” he murmured. “The glorious ebony hue of your hair, your perfect height…”

“And what is the perfect height for a Queen?” she enquired, amused.

“Why it is neither too tall nor too short, ma’am.”

“Hmm” the young Queen murmured in mock annoyance at his quip. “I must say you make an excellent fox, Lord Melbourne – cunning, and perhaps a little sly.”

The Prime Minister laughed roundly at that. “You also foiled my disguise, Your Majesty. What gave me away?”

“I’d know your voice anywhere” the young Queen responded quietly. “Besides, it is just like you to dress not as a king or a hero, but as a gentleman fox who may walk among the people without fanfare. You will see that my husband has crowned himself King Theseus. I hope he enjoys it because it will be the only crown he ever wears” she said scathingly, taking a deep sip of champagne.

“I take it he has not reformed his despicable behaviour?” Reddington enquired in a low voice.

“Quite the opposite. Indeed, when you discovered me here I was reeling from the most appalling encounter with him. He approached me most flirtatiously, even solicited an… _intimate_ … encounter, only for me to realise that he believed he was speaking with another!”

Reddington closed his eyes momentarily, pained at what he was hearing. “He is an utterly worthless scoundrel. I had thought there were no depths to which he could sink that would surprise me but I am staggered that he dare conduct his affairs within the palace walls.”

The young Queen observed the Prime Minister then, her full lips pursed thoughtfully. “I believe it is a consequence of the occasion, Lord Melbourne. There is a certain… _freedom_ … that is associated with a disguise – tonight I am not a Queen, and you are not a Prime Minister”

“We are but a fox and a fairy” Reddington responded slowly.

“Like characters in a fairy-tale” the Queen murmured. “Perhaps we might have our happy ending” the she whispered, her hand resting daringly on his sleeve. “Even if it is only for tonight. Meet me in the Green Drawing room in ten minutes.”

“Elizabeth-” Reddington said under his breath, a note of warning in his voice, but it was too late. The young Queen turned and made her way through the crowd, and slipped from the room.

* * *

When she reached the Green drawing room, the Queen paced back and forth in the dimly lit room, her heart racing. Would he come to her? Or would he maintain his insistence that they could not act on their love for one another again. She had almost given up on him and was about to return to the ball in a cloud of shame, when the door opened and he stepped inside, closing the door gently behind him. He leaned against the dark wood panel, staring at her, his grey eyes turbulent behind his fox’s mask, and his chest heaving under his waistcoat.

The young Queen trembled in anticipation as she heard the click of the door lock behind him. “You came to me” she breathed.

“Against all reason, I did” he replied, his voice low and rough.

“What use have we for reason tonight?” the Queen murmured. “There is such enchantment in the air. I find myself…”

“… _Powerless_ ” Reddington growled, and with that he marched towards her pulling her into a passionate embrace, their mouths meeting as though once again their souls were reuniting.

The Queen’s costume was much lighter and more accessible than her usual habiliments, and Reddington groaned with lust on discovering that she wore no corset under her bodice. His large hands gripped her slender, supple form as he kissed her, his thumb rubbing and teasing her nipple through the delicate material of her dress. She arched into him with wanton abandon, moaning as his lips caressed her neck, his teeth scraping delicately over her collarbone.

“This is the room where I first saw you after my years in Austria. You were so handsome.” she breathed into his ear.

“You took my breath away” he told her in a low tone, his voice gravelled with desire as he began to unlace the bodice of her dress. “You were the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on. A beauty that has only grown more enchanting as I have come to know the woman you’ve become. _Elizabeth”_ he gasped as she leant into him, pressing herself against his manhood.

She caught his mouth in a heady kiss, moaning against him as he pulled her dress down to the floor, leaving her in scant undergarments, her breasts peeking out over the top of her silk chemise. He paused then, stepping back to admire her and she held his gaze admirably, with the confidence of a girl who had become a queen. She reached up slowly and removed her delicate mask as though revealing all of herself to him, her cheeks flushed with want and her dark hair cascading over her shoulders. He followed shortly afterwards, palming his fox mask from his face and revealing himself to her, his eyes dark and his jaw wound tight with the effort of containing himself.

Never breaking his gaze, she lowered herself to lay back on a chaise, her legs falling open invitingly. His nostrils flaring as he huffed a lustful breath, Reddington knelt over her, bending down to kiss her passionately. He drew his fingers tantalisingly up her drawers, his palm cupping her sex firmly through the delicate silk, making her gasp into his mouth as he massaged her. She bucked into him urgently and he wasted no time in slipping his hand beneath her waistband, sliding his fingers between her slick, delicate folds where she craved stimulation. She cried out, rubbing herself against him, her prim little nose nuzzling his neck, as he pleasured her.

“Such a needy little fairy, I see” he murmured gruffly in her ear. “I will give you that which you desire, sweet girl.”

He drew the length of his long fingers through her folds repeatedly, applying gentle pressure until a delicious flush spread through her body and waves of exquisite pleasure broke over her.

“Take all of me” she gasped breathily. “For this night, I am yours Mr Fox.”

“Indeed you are” he growled. “I have captured my prey and will have what is mine” he continued with a devilish smile, unceremoniously pulling down her drawers.

She gasped in shock and delight as he removed her underthings and she found her lower half unclothed on the luxurious velvet chaise, his large hands caressing her bare bottom. He deftly took down the buttons on the front of his trousers, and his length sprang out, swollen and glistening with moisture at the tip.

Reddington gazed at her ardently as he slowly pressed into her and she whimpered in pleasure, pulling him down on top of her. He gave short, shallow thrusts at first, and then groaned as she shifted beneath him, allowing him to sink fully into her. He covered her with his body, for although they were alone, he felt desperately possessive, as though in knowing that she did not belong to him, he became more eager than ever to cherish her as his in their short moment of ecstasy. He captured her mouth then, hungrily swallowing her mewls until she reached her peak beneath him. Shuddering with pleasure and longing, he gave a low cry as he released inside her, leaning down and resting his forehead lovingly against hers.

They stayed there some moments, relishing the exquisite pleasure of being joined, and a closeness that was so bittersweet it was almost too much to bear. Eventually they unwound from one another, regretfully replacing their clothing. Reddington offered the young Queen his hand to help her up from the chaise, his expression solemn. The Queen accepted it, canting her head at him with a soft smile as she stood.

“You must not regret our time together” she said gently. “I could not bear that. Your love is the very air that sustains me.”

Reddington shook his head and drew her to him, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Regret? No. I could never regret time spent with you, my Lizzie. As Shakespeare’s sprite said in the end, ‘if we shadows have offended, think but this and all is mended – that you have but slumbered here, while these visions did appear.’”

The young Queen looked up at him then, smiling even while her eyes filled with tears. “If indeed this was a dream, then I wish I did not have to wake.”

With that, she pressed a gentle kiss to his lips before turning and making her way softly from the room. Reddington hung his head, swallowing hard before he too followed her out of the Green drawing room, and back to the ball.

Down the marbled corridor, a man wearing a golden crown watched them leave, his eyes burning and his fists trembling with rage.


	23. Desperate Times

The morning after the ball, Queen Elizabeth was writing letters in her private sitting room when Prince Thomas entered, his expression stony. He nodded shallowly to her and she acknowledged him with a tight smile.

“Good morning, husband. I trust you enjoyed yourself at the ball? I’m afraid to say I saw little of you.”

The Prince smiled unpleasantly. “Indeed, I enjoyed it greatly. In fact, I think it would be fair to say that I had a most… _illuminating_ time.”

“Really?” the young Queen said stiffly. “I had no idea that balls could be so edifying. Now if you’ll excuse me, I must finish my letters before the twelve o’clock post.”

“I don’t think I will” he replied, shaking his head.

“What?” the Queen asked, confused.

“I don’t think I will excuse you” the Prince said in a hard tone. “Quite the contrary, I feel inclined to hold you very much accountable.”

“Whatever do you mean?” the young Queen asked, her skin growing warm with anxiety.

Prince Thomas regarded her coldly. “Listen well, wife, and I will tell you the most extraordinary story. At the ball I was enjoying myself exceedingly when I encountered a young lady dressed as a fairy, her costume really rather daring. I told myself that perhaps these English women were not all quite as reserved as my lady wife, at least not this young nymph. And so it was I sought to know this intriguing young girl better, and was most unexpectedly and discourteously rebuffed, for she removed herself from me without a word! That was most ill-mannered, do you not think?”

The Prince paused then, smiling most disagreeably, taking pleasure in the young Queen’s obvious discomfort. She pursed her lips tightly closed, her heart thundering beneath her bodice as she waited to hear the rest of the Prince’s speech.

“I shall take your silence as agreement, wife, for I know that you value good manners in your ladies” he said mockingly. “I was indeed curious to know who had rebuffed me, and so I took it upon myself to follow her. Of course my curiosity was further aroused when the lady left the ball and made her way to the drawing room, only to be joined some moments later by another guest, a gentleman, no less. Of course I knew then that this lady was indeed engaged in some naughtiness, and so it only remained to ascertain the identities of the lady and gentleman who behaved in so vulgar a fashion at a royal ball.”

The young Queen closed her eyes in resignation, waiting for him to deliver the final blow.

“Imagine my surprise, my hurt, my _disappointment_ , when I saw this amorous couple eventually leave the room having quite forgotten to replace their masks, and lo – it was none other than my own dear wife, and, if I am not mistaken, that old _letch_ of a Prime Minister!”

“How _dare_ you” the Queen hissed, jumping up from her seat as her hot temper flared. “Lord Melbourne is more of a gentleman than you could _ever_ hope to be. He is kind and generous and honourable, and _you_ – why, you only discovered us because you were so dismayed that there was a lady who could refuse your adulterous attentions! That’s right _Thomas_ , I know about your affairs – Gina Zanetakos, Lucy Brooks, goodness knows how many others-”

She broke off with a cry as the Prince seized her violently, his expression twisted into a snarl as his fingers gripped her arms cruelly.

“ _Gottverdammt!_ I’ll hear no more from you, insolent little slut!”

“I am your Queen!” she gasped. “I command you to unhand me this instant- _oh_!”

In that moment the Prince struck her hard across the cheek with the back of his hand, the shock and pain subduing the young Queen into a stunned silence. She stood trembling in his grip, wincing at the feel of his harsh, angry breath on her face.

“Allow me to be perfectly clear, my dear. You do not command me. I am your _husband_. You, however, are nothing but are a silly little girl in a crown, a greedy little slattern who will not be satisfied with one man, a man she is supposed to honour!”

The young Queen looked up at him then, her eyes wet and shining with anger. “How could I possibly be satisfied with you? How could I honour you?” she whispered. “Since the day we were wed you have shown yourself to be a callous, vain and cruel man. I curse the day I took you as my husband” she choked.

The Prince’s lip curled unpleasantly at her words. “But you _did_ take me as your husband, and by God you will learn to respect me!” he hissed, pressing his thumb painfully into her cheek. “From now on there will be certain changes. You will be gentle, submissive and courteous to me at all times, in public and in private. You will lie with me and _only_ me, whenever I require it. Princess Agnes will marry when and whom I command. And finally, you will not see your Lord Melbourne again unless it is here at the palace for a formal audience, accompanied by a chaperone of my choosing.”

The young Queen shook her head in disgust, twisting out of his grip. “Have you taken leave of your senses? What makes you believe I will agree to any of your ridiculous terms?”

Prince Thomas smiled cruelly. “I don’t just believe you will. I know it. You see my dear, not even you would be capable of wilfully destroying the British Monarchy.”

The Queen’s blue eyes widened in fright. “What do you mean?” she whispered.

“Only this. That if you refuse my terms, now or in the future, I will ensure that your scandalous affair with the Prime Minister is publicly revealed, and your precious daughter Princess Agnes will be declared illegitimate, for I know now that she is none of mine. The monarchy would dissolve in disgrace and shame, its Queen branded a whore and its only heir a bastard child born of scandal. _That_ is the path you choose if you disobey me.”

The young Queen stilled, a cold feeling creeping over her like ice water in her veins. “You would not do such a thing” she murmured faintly. “Not even you are capable of such cruelty.”

Prince Thomas sighed and came to stand in front of her, resting his hands firmly on her slender shoulders.

“It is not cruelty to demand that which is owed to me by right. Obey me and your shameful little secret will be safe enough. But mark me well, Elizabeth. You will lie with me. You will give me a _son_ , a true heir to the British throne. Be advised that if you refuse to cooperate I do not consider it too indelicate a task to take what is mine by force – under all your titles and finery you’re just a girl, and a girl is no match for me. Defy my conditions, and you and your bastard daughter will live out your days in shame and ruin amongst the ashes of the once great British Monarchy. Do you understand?”

The young Queen was speechless, a fog of panic and fear settling around her. Unable to speak, she only gave him a shallow nod, desperate for him to unhand her, to allow her time alone to grieve all that she had lost, and all that she could lose.

“Very well” the Prince said in a clipped tone. “I depart shortly for a hunting excursion, and on my return I shall expect you to be everything a wife should be. I suggest you use the time to consider your future, my dear” he said, pinching her chin triumphantly.

With that, he made his way from the room, leaving the young Queen to sink trembling into a chair, her hands covering her face as her tears began to fall.

* * *

Reddington was in his private study in Westminster when there was a knock at the door, interrupting his work.

“Enter” he said, peering at the door from over his reading glasses.

The door opened to reveal one of the footmen of Westminster, who cleared his throat apologetically.

“Forgive me sir, but you have a visitor – a Lady Clara Stanley. I’d not have disturbed you, but for the lady has come directly from the palace with a message from the Queen.”

“One of the Queen’s ladies, eh?” Reddington said, raising his eyebrows. “Well then, you’d best show her in, Edwards!”

The servant nodded, and a moment later the lady entered his study as directed by the servant. She wore a veil over her bonnet which obscured her face, as though she planned attending church at the conclusion of her business. As Reddington observed her, he stiffened slightly and rose from his seat behind his desk.

“Thank you Edwards, that will be all.”

Reddington waited patiently until the servant had closed the door, and then pursed his lips.

“Lady Clara, is it?” he enquired softly. “I believe I have known you by another name… Your Majesty” he said, bowing his head respectfully.

The woman raised her gloved hands and lifted her veil, revealing herself, as Reddington had known, to be none other than the Queen herself. Reddington’s lips parted in dismay as he saw her face, her cheek bruised and her eyes red from crying.

“Dear God” Reddington murmured, moving swiftly out from behind his desk to go to her. “Elizabeth, what has happened?”

“The Prince…” the Queen said tightly, holding back a sob. “He knows all. Of our relationship, Princess Agnes… Everything. He has made such threats that I am unable to think clearly for the horror of it.”

Reddington drew her gently to him, holding her against his chest. “Oh Lizzie” he breathed. “You have risked too much in coming here to me! For the Queen of England to come to _me_ rather than the other way around, and unescorted… Added to that, if the Prince suspects you, I cannot bear to think how he will act. You must think of only yourself and Agnes!”

The young Queen drew back, staring up at him dolefully. “The Prince has gone away on a hunting trip. I wanted you to hear it from me - this is the last time we will ever be alone together again. We cannot see each other except on formal occasions and only then with a chaperone chosen by the Prince. I was only able to escape his spies today by means of this subterfuge.”

Reddington frowned, pained. “How has he threatened you? You must tell me all in order for me to protect you, for I will move heaven and earth to do so.”

The young Queen closed her eyes in shame, tears squeezing out from behind her lashes. “Not even the great Lord Melbourne can protect me now. The Prince demands that I defer to him on all things. That Princess Agnes shall marry a man of his choosing. That I… That I lie with him on pain of being taken by force. If I do not comply with his wishes, he will expose our secret and declare the Princess an illegitimate child. Even if she is named as my heir, he will ruin her reputation and that of the monarchy!”

“God in heaven” Reddington breathed in shock and dismay. “He is the very worst of men.”

“Oh Reddington Bear…” the Queen said tearfully. “The things he said he would do… Though I care far less for myself than I do for the Princess. She is innocent in all this, and yet he has used her most manipulatively. I do so fear that he means to promise her to his wicked German cousin. He threatens her with exposure and ignominy otherwise.”

Reddington closed his eyes, his jaw taut with anxiety. 

“Now you see” the Queen said tearfully. “I fear you are as powerless as I in this. What a thing – a Queen and a Prime Minister reduced to mere puppets by a wicked prince!”

She felt Reddington’s hand caress her face gently then, and looked up to meet his gaze. “You must not lose hope” he said in a low, soothing voice, staring down at her seriously. “I’ll not allow him to hurt either one of you, I promise you that on all that I hold dear. Now you must return to the palace immediately before you are missed. Elizabeth… you must trust me.”

“Dearest Lord Melbourne, of course I trust you… But I do not know how we can survive this” the Queen said desolately.

Reddington smiled gently down at her, taking her gloved hand in his. “You have in your possession the strength of a great Queen… and the love of a man who would give his life for you. You _will_ persevere.”

He bent his head to kiss her hand respectfully and then stepped back. “Your Majesty” he said quietly, his tone almost reverent.

The young Queen smiled sadly at him, taking a moment to lose herself in the kindness of his eyes before replacing her veil, and making her way quietly from the room.

When she had departed, Reddington sat down heavily on the chair behind his desk, his expression grim. He took a small key from his waistcoat pocket and unlocked the desk drawer, removing a black leather box. He stared at it some moments, working his jaw, before flipping open the lid to reveal two gleaming steel pistols.


	24. Desperate Measures

Prince Thomas sat astride his horse near the bank of the Thames river, looking out coldly over the muddy fields as his dogs barked and whined into the cold, misty afternoon. His riding companion, a man in his forties, looked at him with a cold loathing in his eyes.

“You’re not only a blaggard but a fool. This is not a day for sport. It rained heavily in the night - you can see here the river has risen fit to burst its banks. The horses won’t like the mud.”

The Prince’s lip curled into a sneer. “Am I to be concerned with the wishes of horses, now?”

“Come now. That’s a new mare you’re breaking in, you don’t want to push her too hard the first go, she won’t stand for it.”

“Be off with you” the Prince said dismissively. “I don’t take orders from females, not my wife, and certainly not my horse. Ya!” he finished, digging his heels into the horse’s flank.

The mare whinnied and took off over the field, its hooves slipping and sliding in the mud. The Prince’s dogs ran beside him, growling and snapping at the horse’s heels, the mud and the fright causing her to stumble.

“Damned beast” the Prince cried, thrashing the mare with his whip. “Come on!”

“We should turn back” his companion warned behind him.

“No! We shall jump the fence away from the river, the ground will be firmer.”

With that, the Prince whipped his horse again, spurring her on and on towards the fence, readying her for the jump. As the fence approached, her hooves slid in the mud and she took fright, bucking suddenly. The Prince was thrown from the saddle and landed heavily in the mud, grunting in anger.

“Damned, pathetic beast!” he yelled, wiping mud from his face with his sleeve.

His riding companion joined him presently, a look of contempt on his face. “Are you injured?”

“A twisted ankle, it seems” the Prince hissed tightly as he rose stiffly to his feet.

That moment the grey mist turned to rain and the Prince swore as rivulets of muddy water ran down his face.

“That settles it” his companion said firmly. “You’re in no state to ride and the weather is against us. There’s an inn yonder where we can stay for the night.”

“An _inn?”_ the Prince repeated incredulously. “I am a great Prince, husband to the Queen, practically the King of England! You expect me to take lodgings at a common public house?”

His companion regarded him stonily. “Your appalling behaviour is none of a great prince or a king.”

Prince Thomas’s expression darkened in anger. “I did not agree to allow you to accompany me to have you insult me, _old man_. Why would I go to a flea-ridden ale house with _you_?”

“You have little choice in the matter” his companion scoffed. “You’re lame and I’d warrant the mare is too. Besides, I think a sojourn at an unassuming public house is exactly what we need. We must talk, and mark you we _will_ settle this one way or another. You may not rejoice in my company, but you can’t tell me that a warm ale or two doesn’t sound appealing at this moment.”

The Prince paused, clenching his fists in frustration before agreeing sullenly, and the two men made their way slowly across the field to the inn.

* * *

Later in the evening, the Prince returned from the bar to his modest room at the inn, stumbling blearily as he felt the effects of the copious alcohol he had consumed. He had just crashed onto the bed muttering incoherently, when the door to his room opened.

“What are you doing here?” the Prince slurred angrily. “Get out!”

His eyes widened in confusion as he saw the gun raised in front of him, but he had no time to cry out before a single shot silenced him forever.

* * *

The Queen paced back and forth agitatedly in her private sitting room, the black silk mourning dress she wore making a mockery of the relief she felt in her heart. She turned when the footman announced the Prime Minister, her heart racing beneath her bodice.

“Lord Melbourne” she greeted him breathlessly.

“Your Majesty” the Prime Minister said with a bow. “You have my condolences on the loss of the Prince.”

The Queen raised her eyebrows, balling her fists nervously. She regarded him in silence for a moment before sitting on a chaise, looking up at him.

“I struggled to believe he was truly dead to begin with, you know” she murmured. “I expected him to walk in, to seize me violently and chastise me for my folly in believing that he could really be gone.”

“I have had the coroner’s report, ma’am” Reddington said gently. “I can confirm the Prince is gone.”

“Yes” the Queen said stiffly. “When they first told me he had been shot I assumed a hunting accident, for he was away on a hunting excursion. And yet later I learned that he was shot at an _inn_ – it is hard to see that it could be an accident under those circumstances. I have requested further details but been given none. I am told only that the investigation is ongoing and the facts are not yet clear.”

“The facts are clear, ma’am” Reddington said softly, swallowing hard. “The Prince was murdered.”

“Oh” the Queen breathed, raising her hand to her mouth.

“The details have been kept from you in order to spare you the pain they will bring” Reddington continued, his jaw tight with tension. “Though you should know the truth and I feel it must be my duty to tell you.”

The Queen let out a sob, her hand trembling. “Yes. Tell me if you must. Though I dread your answer.”

Reddington nodded, his expression solemn. “It appears that the Prince went out for a hunt with a companion, a man by the name Of Ian Garvey. The Prince took a fall from his horse, injuring his ankle, and inclement weather prompted the two men to seek shelter for the night at the inn. According to the bar keep, they drank heavily until both were intoxicated. It appears that at some point during the night, Garvey entered the Prince’s room and shot him in cold blood.”

The Queen raised her head sharply at that, her dark ringlets bouncing against her cheek and her blue eyes wide. “ _Garvey_ shot Thomas?” she exclaimed.

“Yes ma’am” Reddington confirmed. “He did not deny it when questioned. Garvey is a senior member of the judiciary and gave a full confession. It appears that the Prince… _interfered…_ with Garvey’s ward, a young woman by the name of Jennifer. I am sorry to tell you that she became pregnant, and the Prince refused to acknowledge her or the child. Garvey rode out with the Prince in an effort to reason with him, but found him intractable. One can only imagine the Prince’s disdainful attitude towards Garvey and the girl when drunk, but we do know that Garvey took the opportunity to exact his revenge. That, ma’am, is the true and faithful account of your husband’s demise, though it pains me to say it.”

The young Queen made a strange sound, almost like a sob, and began to shake.

Reddington winced, pained to see her so distressed. “I am so deeply sorry, ma’am. In time the pain of this will lessen-”

He broke off with a frown as the Queen raised her head and he saw that she was in fact smiling, and shaking with nervous laughter.

“ _Garvey_ killed the Prince” she said in a breathy gasp.

“Yes, ma’am” Reddington confirmed, confused.

“Not you” she said then, staring at him in wonder. “You did not kill him?”

Reddington stilled as realisation dawned. “ _No_ ” he said firmly. “You thought that I…”

The Queen looked up at him helplessly. “I did not know what to think. You said that you would be willing to give your life to protect me, and then the Prince was shot… I feared greatly that you had taken it upon yourself to dispatch the Prince, even though you would surely hang for it! I cannot tell you the relief I feel. The scandalous circumstances of the Prince’s demise are nothing to me as long as you are safe.”

Reddington paused, working his jaw. “Prince Thomas made some bad decisions. Decisions which hurt people. Ultimately his hubris alone led to the events which killed him. However… It would be dishonest of me to claim that the thought of ending him myself had not crossed my mind” he said quietly. “To claim that I have not thought of many ways in which I might rid you and Agnes of the blaggard. But to dispatch a man so stealthily” he said, shaking his head in distaste. “No. In truth I had planned to challenge him – to have satisfaction in a fair fight. But God has seen fit to spare me that, it seems.”

“Challenge him” the young Queen repeated, her expression darkening. “Do you mean to say that you intended to challenge him to a duel? Pistols at dawn?”

“I did” Reddington confirmed.

“How utterly, utterly foolhardy! How could you!” the Queen exclaimed angrily, rising from her seat.

Reddington knew enough of the young monarch’s quick temper to stay silent while she paced.

“You could have been killed!” she continued, enraged. “Indeed you would most likely have been killed, for Thomas had few skills in life but for cruelty and his hunting – he was an expert marksman.”

Reddington sniffed. “I am a fair shot myself ma’am, though I prefer to settle arguments in the debating chamber.”

The Queen ceased her pacing and went to him then, taking his hands in hers, looking up at him earnestly.

“Do you not see – if you had been killed you would have robbed me of the only man I have ever loved! You would have deprived Princess Agnes the privilege of knowing her true father” she added quietly.

“If I had been killed it would have been defending the woman I love and the child I treasure. I cannot think of a more noble death” Reddington answered softly.

The Queen shook her head in consternation. “And what if you have lived? To have killed the Prince in a battle for my honour… Your reputation would be in ruins! You would have been dismissed as Prime Minister, forced out of all good society, suspected and perhaps even branded a criminal. You would have lost your good name and been compelled to live in the shadows. You would have lost everything!”

“I would have borne it all for you” he answered gently. “Besides, who knows that I wouldn’t thrive in such an environment? Perhaps I would be born again as a gentleman of the world, running profitably among the criminal classes” he said with an amused smile.

“Honestly!” the Queen chastised, unable to hide her smile. “You are the most ridiculous, wonderful man I have ever known. She bent her head and kissed his hands as she held them.

“Elizabeth” he said sadly. “I cannot pretend that I am not relieved that the Prince is gone. That you and Princess Agnes have been spared the hardship of his continued presence in your life. But you must know that it does not change our situation. We are no more free to marry than we were.”

The young Queen drew back, clasping her hands in front of her. “How wicked you must think me” she sighed. “I stand here in mourning for my husband, while professing my love for another.”

“Not at all” he said gently. “I seek only to prevent false hope and the pain it would bring.”

“I have no wish to cause you pain, dearest Reddington Bear” she answered him softly. “But nor do I wish or intend to give up hope. I feel certain that in time, a solution will present itself. Until then, you know my heart.”

Reddington smiled at her, canting his head affectionately. “As well as my own, my dear Lizzie. As well as my own.”


	25. The Chartist Solution

Months passed and Reddington was kept extremely busy by matters of government, and in particular the Chartist cause. The group that had once been an isolated rebel faction had now gained a large following, with many of the English people sympathetic to their argument that the common man should have a vote and representation in parliament. Debates in the House had become increasingly heated, until the matter rested on a knife edge. When the time was right, Reddington did what he had often done in the past to progress past a sensitive political impasse to the benefit of the people; he went to see the one person who had it within her power to shine a light in the darkness.

When he entered the Queen’s private sitting room, he smiled broadly to see that she was accompanied by Princess Agnes today. He bowed first to the Queen, and then to the Princess Royal, his heart singing with delight as he genuflected to the little girl.

“Your Majesty. Your Royal Highness” he said affectionately.

“Good afternoon, Prime Minister” the Queen said warmly. “I had a feeling that Agnes wanted to see you” she said, laughing as the little girl beamed at Reddington. “There, you see?”

Reddington chuckled and waved to the child, gazing fondly at the little Princess and her mother.

“It is a very great pleasure to see you both looking so well” he said gently, his chest swelling with pride and affection under his waistcoat.

The young Queen smiled, gazing up at him. “We are indeed well. Prince Thomas has gone from our lives and my odious Uncle has retreated now that I have a healthy heir. I feel a renewed sense of faith that a happy and peaceful future awaits us.”

“I believe your faith is justified, Your Majesty” Reddington said, swallowing. “For what are children but beacons of hope for a better future?”

“Would you like to hold her?” the Queen asked softly, holding the little Princess up to him.

“I would indeed, ma’am” Reddington said, enthusiastically scooping up the little girl, who laughed with delight.

“Now your Royal Highness, I have a treat for you” he continued conspiratorially “but only if your mother agrees."

The little Princess blinked at him curiously as he produced a small chocolate truffle from his pocket.

The young Queen smiled affectionately at the sight. “Just one” she said with mock sternness.

“Of course” Reddington said soberly. “I would not dream of defying your mother” he said to Princess Agnes as he offered her the sweet “for she may have me sent to the tower!”

“That is quite preposterous” the Queen said primly. “Now, what matters have you for me today?”

“Ma’am” Reddington said, regretfully handing the little Princess back to her mother. “There is a rather delicate matter of some concern that I thought it prudent to bring to you, though it is not strictly within my remit to advise you here.”

“I am intrigued, Lord Melbourne.”

Reddington cleared his throat. “It involves the Chartists, ma’am. Your Majesty is aware that they have built a charter demanding the vote for the common man, and representation in parliament. I understand that they intend to cross Westminster Bridge, enter the Houses of Parliament and deliver a petition for their charter themselves, requesting that it be passed into law. Such an act at the very least would be viewed as trespass and contrary to the peace, and as such, the police would be legally compelled to prevent them crossing the bridge.”

“I see”, the Queen said. “And do they intend violence on entering the Houses of Parliament?”

“It would not be prudent of me to say for certain ma’am, though I believe their intentions are to peacefully deliver their demands.”

“And yet it is not legal for them to do so.”

“Correct, ma’am” Reddington said sagely. “In fact, the only way they might legally be permitted to pass over the bridge to Parliament is if they were given permission from the…er… landlord.”

“Let me see if I have understood you, Lord Melbourne” the Queen said thoughtfully as she bounced the little Princess on her knee. “It would be illegal for them to pass unless given permission from the one who owns the land on which the palace of Westminster is built.”

“That is correct, ma’am.”

“They require _my_ permission to enter.”

“Quite so, ma’am.”

“And is it your advice that I allow them to pass?”

“In my capacity as Prime Minister I cannot advise the Queen to allow a group of those who seek constitutional reform to enter parliament” Reddington said enigmatically.

The Queen raised a dark eyebrow. “What about as the noble and honourable man I know you to be. What is your advice in that capacity?”

Reddington canted his head thoughtfully. “As a man of honour? I can say only that it would be difficult in good conscience to deny a man the chance to prove he is worthy of participating in the system of representation that determines his own livelihood.”

“Spoken with great probity, as one who truly desires the best for the British people” the Queen said gently. “And who is the leader of these Chartists? The Tories have the Duke of Wellington, the Whigs have you – who do the Chartists offer as their representative?”

“A man named William Lovett, ma’am. He is a carpenter by trade, with no formal education, but he has a worthy mind. He is self-educated and committed to the peaceful furtherance of the poor men’s cause.”

“He sounds a rather interesting fellow” the young Queen mused. “I think I should like to meet him. Have him come to visit me at the Palace, Lord Melbourne.”

Reddington raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You wish to receive him at the Palace, ma’am?”

“There is no need to sound so surprised, Prime Minister. This man wishes to make a rather momentous request of me, and I should like him to do so in person before I make my decision. We shall have him for tea, shan’t we” she said to the little Princess on her knee. “Please see that he comes, Prime Minister, and furnish me with a copy of this charter. I wish to become better acquainted with their demands.”

Reddington’s lips twitched in a small smile before he bowed his accession. “It shall be done, Your Majesty.”

* * *

When the day came for the young Queen to meet the Chartist leader William Lovett, she received him in her private sitting room. He entered the room after having been announced, holding his frayed hat in his hands and looking around in a bewildered fashion at his grand surroundings. He was a man of about forty, his clothes worn though spotlessly clean. His eyes widened when he set eyes on the young Queen, his mouth opening and then closing again without comment.

“Good afternoon, Mr Lovett” the Queen said kindly. “I am most grateful to you for taking the time to visit me here.”

“I am most grateful for the opportunity, miss – I mean ‘Your Majesty’! I do beg your pardon” he said breathily, his face turning crimson. “It’s just, you’re so young…”

“I shall take it as a compliment” the Queen said genially. “Please do sit down. I’ve taken the liberty of ordering some tea for us” she said, gesturing to the table beside her.

Lovett’s eyes widened further when he saw the table, set with fine china cups and plates full of cakes and buns.

“Thank you ma’am” he said hoarsely, sitting gingerly on the edge of a chair.

“Sugar?” the Queen enquired as she poured the tea.

The man nodded dumbly and she added two lumps before handing him the cup.

“That is most kind of you ma’am” he said, his fingers trembling a little as he accepted her offering.

“I understand that you are a carpenter” the Queen said conversationally. “What sort of things do you make?”

Lovett smiled gratefully, as though thankful she had delivered him to safer ground. “Just so, ma’am. I’m a cabinet maker by trade - you know, dressers and the like for ladies to keep their spices in. I mostly work with oak and ash, but sometimes walnut if a client has money. I once made a walnut wardrobe for a gentleman who lived in Portman Square!”

“Indeed!” the Queen said interestedly. “And may I ask what led you from carpentry to politics?”

Lovett looked nervous then, licking his lips and placing his teacup down. He clasped his hands in front of him and looked the young Queen bravely in the eye.

“I never wanted a big life. I was happy with my lot – I love working with my hands, and I don’t have anything against grand folk such as yourself. But when I came to London, some of the things I saw… Well they just weren’t right. Children living in poverty while the lords collect a fat rent from their parents. The same children having to work when they’re just small, because their parents can’t send them to school. That’s why I helped set up the Chartist group. So you see, I wasn’t born to the role I have now. I’m just here because I feel I have to be.”

“That is something I understand all too well” the Queen said quietly. “And I can see that you are very committed to your cause.”

“I don’t want Your Majesty to get the wrong idea” Lovett said hurriedly. “I mean no disrespect to you or your great office. Indeed, it was a great thing you did, stopping those Chartist men from hanging. But put simply ma’am, I think the common man should have a vote to be able to argue against the injustices in society. We deserve a say in determining our own future. So I respectfully request your permission to cross Westminster Bridge to deliver our petition to Parliament” he finished firmly.

The young Queen nodded. “Spoken like a true parliamentarian. Mr Lovett, I have had the opportunity to study your charter – Lord Melbourne was kind enough to procure a copy for me. I found it to be most compelling, and while I may not be able to formally offer my support to any political group, I am in a position to grant you leave to cross the bridge and make your case. I intend to do so.”

Lovett’s eyes lit up, unable to believe his good fortune.

“I do, however, have a condition” the Queen continued sternly.

“Of course ma’am, of course!”

“I wish you to make an amendment to the charter.”

Lovett frowned. “Ma’am?”

The Queen took a deep breath. “My understanding of your charter is that it includes the requirement that members of parliament, once elected, must retain their office and a formal relationship with parliament until such time as they are voted out in an election, or they retire. Otherwise, their position as MPs is secure, and they remain representatives of parliament. Is that correct?”

“That’s right, ma’am. We say ‘once they’re in, they’re in’. It’s so as to protect any common man who’s been elected from being pushed out later.”

“That seems sensible” the Queen said slowly. “My request is that you add a clause here, which states explicitly that concomitantly, once an MP has lost their seat through being voted out or in the case that they retire, they no longer have any formal relationship with Parliament or the British Constitution other than as a subject of its laws. Of course if they choose to run again, they may. But otherwise, legally speaking, it will be as though they had never been in office - they will become ordinary citizens. To put it in your terms, ‘once they are out… they are _out_.’”

Lovett paused for a moment, considering her proposition. “I don’t see that it would be a problem to include that, ma’am. May I ask why you want this clause added to the charter?”

The young Queen smiled knowingly. “You may ask… But I will not answer. Further, you must tell no one that the request for this change came from me. If asked, you will tell your followers that the additional clause is merely a formality necessary for legal purposes. Those are my terms for allowing you to deliver your petition, and they are set in stone, Mr Lovett. Do we have an agreement?”

The Chartist leader looked at her agape, but nodded his agreement. “We do ma’am. We do.”

“Good” the Queen said briskly, rising to her feet. “In that case it only remains for me to wish you the best of luck with your petition.”

Lovett rose swiftly from his chair and bowed, moving respectfully backwards away from her. “Thank you ma’am - Your Majesty. I’m much obliged.”

The young Queen waited genteelly until he had left the room and then clasped her hands excitedly, twirling girlishly in a circle, a broad grin lighting up her face.


	26. The Mother and Father of Britain

So it was that when the time came, the Chartists gathered their great numbers and marched jubilantly across Westminster Bridge. The streets were lined with guards in the event that their crossing turned to violence, but the mood among the crowd was only joyful and respectful. A group of nearly 100,000 men brought their ‘People’s Charter’ petition to the Houses of Parliament without incident, with the support of many of the English people, and the express permission of the young Queen of England herself who had graciously granted them passage to make their case.

In the weeks that followed, the contents of the People’s Charter were scrupulously debated in the House, with Reddington providing gentle but firm leadership advocating for the rights of all men to representation. The days were long and exhausting for all members of parliament, and none more so than for the Prime Minister, who worked tirelessly in anticipation of the vote. When the time came, his guidance and impassioned speeches won the day, and the People’s Charter was adopted into law, providing the common man with the constitutional right to representation.

After the historic vote, Reddington made his way to his favourite longue in the House of Commons in search of his friend and Chancellor Lord Gerard. Had his circumstances been different it would have been pure comfort and celebration he sought, but despite having won the vote, his mind was in turmoil. During his weeks of studying the Charter a notion had formed in his mind, one which he could scarcely give credence to for fear of disappointment, but now that the Charter was enshrined in law, it behoved him to confront it.

On entering the lounge, his found Lord Gerard ensconced in a chair by the fire.

“Well, Marvin” Reddington said taking a seat opposite him and pouring himself a generous measure of single malt. “What times we are living in.”

“Indeed” Lord Gerard agreed. “Miraculous times, for I never thought I’d live to see the day that the common man got the vote. What’s next, votes for women?”

Reddington smiled knowingly. “I think you’ll agree given that the entire British Empire is now led very ably by a woman, and a young one at that, the notion of affording women the vote does not seem as unlikely as it once did.”

“Quite right” Lord Gerard chuckled. “Our lovely young Queen has definitely shown us the fairer sex have their place in the business of running the state.”

Reddington nodded thoughtfully, working his jaw in a troubled fashion.

“What troubles you, my friend?” Lord Gerard enquired. “I have to say I expected more jubilation from you on this day.”

Reddington paused before answering his friend in a low voice. “It does indeed give me great pleasure that the vote passed. And yet it has left me with a question that I have scarcely been able to consider for fear of giving myself false hope… Marvin, there is a clause in the charter that has given me great pause. I thought to bring it to you as an experienced lawman… and a friend.

Lord Gerard nodded, and Reddington removed a paper from his inside jacket pocket and placed his reading spectacles on his nose.

“It reads as follows: ‘ _That any man who hast been truly elected so will he serve as a representative of parliament and guardian of the Constitution until such time as he suffers defeat in a democratic election according to the laws of our land, or such time that he willingly enters retirement’_ – now here is the passage that I wish to draw your attention to… ‘ _Concomitantly, any man who has suffered a defeat in a democratic election or who has willingly entered retirement, so shall he relinquish any claim to the representation of parliament or guardianship of the Constitution.”_

Lord Gerard frowned, leaning forward, and Reddington handed him the paper to study. The Prime Minister watched uncharacteristically nervously as his friend examined the clause.

“Hmmmm” Lord Gerard mused thoughtfully. “It’s such a small thing, and yet… yes, I think so. I think this would do very nicely. Well well well” he said, chuckling gently.

“Have mercy on me” Reddington said with quiet urgency. “Does it mean what I think it means?”

Lord Gerard smiled at him. “If you think it means that once retired you have, by law, no formal relationship to Parliament or the Constitution and would therefore be free to marry a member of the royal family… then I believe you are correct.”

Reddington exhaled loudly, blinking in shock and happiness.

Lord Gerard looked at him in wry amusement as he handed back the paper. “It’s ingenious in its simplicity. All it does is make explicit that which is already implied by the rest of the charter, and indeed in the practice of existing law, but in making it explicit it could have a profound impact. Of course it will have no meaning or impact at all for most people, and yet…”

“And yet it is just possible that it could make me the happiest man alive” Reddington breathed.

Lord Gerard sipped his drink with a smile. “Do you know, I heard an extraordinary rumour that the Chartist leader William Lovett was received at Buckingham Palace by none other than the Queen herself, where he requested permission from her to cross the bridge. Of course it is not known what they talked of, but if I recall, this clause was a late addition to the charter… I thought nothing of it at the time, but now… Now it seems the Queen had a price for her permission to cross the bridge. You can tell me, old friend – did you know of her plans?”

Reddington shook his head in astonishment. “I can say honestly that I did not, if plans indeed they were.”

“Ha!” Lord Gerard exclaimed, shaking his head in amusement. “She’s a clever little thing, your young Queen, I’ll say that. I wouldn’t be surprised if your next meeting with her proved most interesting.”

Reddington exhaled loudly and took a long sip of his whisky. He hardly dared to hope that the Chancellor was right, and yet his heart felt lighter than it had in some time.

“I shall certainly look forward to receiving her invitation” he said quietly. “I shall look forward to that very much.”

* * *

When Reddington entered the Queen’s private sitting room for his next audience with her, he felt quite as nervous as he had been when he had come to the Palace to see her in the early days of her return from school. She was more radiant still, dressed in pale blue silk, her luxurious dark ringlets adorned with tiny pearls and white flowers. She smiled softly at him as he entered and he took a brief second to admire her beauty before bowing his head respectfully.

“Your Majesty” he said reverently. “If I may be so bold… you look breath-taking.”

The young Queen smiled at the compliment, her cheeks flushing a little. “Lord Melbourne, you are most welcome. I have a matter of business to discuss with you that I fear is long overdue.”

A small smile formed on Reddington’s lips as he answered. “Indeed, ma’am?”

“Yes – the matter of your resignation” she said primly.

Reddington frowned. “My resignation…” he repeated, taken aback.

“Indeed. Some time ago you offered me your resignation and I refused it. I have given this much thought and I know now that it was wrong of me to do so. I am afraid that I acted selfishly. If you wish to continue on as Prime Minister then you have my full support. But please be advised that if you still wish to retire, then I shall accept your resignation and your recommendation for your replacement.”

Reddington paused, regarding her thoughtfully before answering. “It remains my belief that standing down is the right thing to do for the government and the British people.”

“I hope it would also be the right thing for you, Lord Melbourne” the Queen said solicitously.

“That is my hope too, Your Majesty” Reddington replied softly.

“In which case, when the election is done and Parliament goes into recess, I shall formally discharge you.”

The young Queen paused then, and staring at him softly. “Lord Melbourne” she breathed. “On the occasion of your retirement, I intend to make you a Duke. You shall be known as Raymond Reddington, Duke of Kent.”

Reddington’s lips parted in surprise and the Queen began to smile, unable to hide her delight.

“That is a great honour indeed, ma’am” Reddington said slowly. “May I ask what occasioned this great elevation?”

“It is within my gift to award titles to those who have done great service to their Queen or their country. You have done both, Lord Melbourne” the Queen said with feeling. “I can think of none more deserving.”

“I see” Reddington said, working his jaw. “I had _wondered_ whether it also had something to do with a certain change to the Constitution that has recently been passed by Parliament.”

The Queen nodded, biting her lip. “Do you know, I believe it might…”

She saw his eyes light up, the pleasure and hope on his face, and she could no longer maintain her regal façade. She choked a gasp of tearful happiness and ran to his waiting embrace.

“Oh Reddington Bear, isn’t it wonderful?” she gasped with tears of joy.

“It’s extraordinary” Reddington breathed, holding her close, his eyes closed as he kissed her forehead over and over. “ _You_ are extraordinary.”

The young Queen drew back from him then, an expectant smile on her face. “Well? Isn’t there something you would like to ask me?”

Reddington twitched a smile, before clearing his throat. “Your Majesty, if you recall… it is _you_ who must ask.”

The Queen looked stunned for a moment and then laughed breathlessly as she realised he was correct, for though he was the Prime Minister, many years her senior and one of the greatest men alive, she was his Queen. She composed herself then, swallowing her nerves before she spoke.

“Lord Melbourne. Your friendship has been the most important of my life. You have always been there. You have watched over me, advised me, and you have loved me, as I have loved you. Together we have given England a Princess Royal, and I have thanked God every day that you are Agnes’s father. The thought that I could never be free to marry you broke my heart. And to know that I am now free to do so has filled me with such hope as I have never felt before.”

She paused then in an effort to hold her emotion long enough to finish her speech. “Lord Melbourne… _Raymond_. Will you consent to be my husband, and in doing so make me the most extraordinarily happy woman alive?”

“I _will_ ” Reddington breathed emphatically. “A thousand times, my dear, dear Lizzie” he gasped drawing her passionately into his arms.

He looked reverently down at her then and slowly brought his lips to hers, overwhelmed with the knowledge that it was now not only his privilege, but his right to do so. She met his kiss joyfully, her happiness elevating her incandescent beauty in a way that made him silently vow he would never go another day without looking upon her.

Eventually she broke the kiss with a sigh, staring up at him in wonder. “We must set a date for the wedding, as soon after your retirement as possible!”

Reddington smiled. “Indeed, my dearest fiancée, we shall, though we will need to inform parliament and obtain the appropriate licences.”

“Oh” she murmured anxiously. “I do hope that the British people will not feel that we have betrayed the sentiment of the separation between the monarchy and parliament. It may now be lawful, but that does not mean that the people will be pleased. I do so fear their disapproval.”

“Ahhh” Reddington rumbled conspiratorially. “I do not think you have anything to fear on that score” he said, producing a folded newspaper from his pocket and holding it up for the Queen’s inspection. “The people have blessed our union, my dearest Lizzie” he said gently.

The front page of the newspaper was full of the passage of the people’s charter and the role of both the Prime Minster and the Queen, though it was not the headline that commanded her attention, but the accompanying illustration.

She was depicted as a glorious Queen, her sceptre in one hand and her other hand resting gently on the outline of Britain. And there, on the other side of the country they served, stood her beloved Prime Minister, standing tall and statesman-like, his hand resting on the nation as hers did. The caption below brought tears of joy to her eyes. It read simply, “ _The mother and father of Britain_.”

“I do believe you are right, dearest Reddington Bear” she whispered.

Reddington smiled softly down at the young Queen and she leaned up to meet his kiss, secure in the knowledge that she would proudly lead her people with the man she had always loved at her side.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you've enjoyed reading this! It's been a blast to write. More from me coming soon, and in the meantime, stay safe and well everyone. NTD x


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